Stranger in a Strange Land
by TheCompanyComputerGuy
Summary: After a mysterious explosion Clark wakes up in a world that no longer recognizes him. He soon discovers that things are as if he never existed. CHLARK.
1. Prologue

**_Prologue_**

Just outside the town of Smallville, a lone man waited in the woods. It was dark out, but the full moon provided him with just enough light to see. Nearby, a two lane highway cut through the woods which served as the primary route for those Smallville residents who wished to travel to Metropolis. It was on this highway that a large semi truck would soon be passing by on its way to the LuthorCorp plant. It was that truck that had brought the man to these woods tonight.

The man leaned with his back against a tree, waiting patiently. He breathed deeply, watching the mist his breath made quickly dissipate into the cold night air. The man briefly wondered if he should have worn something warmer to protect him from the cold bite of the night air, as the black formfitting jumpsuit he was wearing was utilitarian in nature, designed for ease of movement and comfort, and not to protect from the elements. He banished the thought as quickly as it came though, as knew he wouldn't be there long enough for the cold to be more than a nuisance.

The forest around him looked like a war zone, with the burned or shattered remains of trees scattered everywhere. They were the constant dark reminder of the catastrophe that struck the area a few months in the past. It was catastrophe that was a repeat the meteor shower that had occurred fifteen years previous. The man had not been present for either event, but it didn't take much imagination to know how terrible it must have been to have witnessed them.

The man glanced down at his left forearm. Stretching from his wrist to almost his elbow was soft black leather band with two electronic devices mounted to it. A small keypad was located near his wrist with an equally small screen mounted closer too his elbow. The placement allowed him to punch keys on the keypad with his right hand without obstructing his view of the screen, a very important need he had taken into consideration when he had designed the wrist band. Quickly he punched several keys and was satisfied with the results on the screen. Less than two minutes to go.

Glancing down at his feet the man noticed a small green rock half buried in the ground. He stooped down dug it the rest of the way out of the ground. He felt that it was odd that such a small rock could create so many problems. He examined it for a few moments more before he gently put it back exactly where he had gotten it. It never hurt to be careful.

The man glanced back down at the small screen on his wrist band. He should be able to hear or see something at any moment now. As if on queue, the sound of a large semi truck reached his ears, distant at first but closing fast. The man took a moment to glance around once more, to make sure that he was alone. He was and he considered it a good sign or at least it should be.

The semi truck appeared, coming around a bend in the road and the rumbling sound it emitted continued to grow louder as it grew closer. Although he couldn't see anymore than the headlights, the man knew it was a LuthorCorp truck. The man shook his head in disgust. The cargo of the semi truck was the reason the man was here that night. He wondered if it was arrogance or vision for men like Lex Luthor to push science into areas not contemplated by others. Of course, the man knew the answer, it was vision when your theories prove correct and your experiments succeed. It was arrogance only when the results are less than satisfactory. Ultimately only time will tell, the man thought and chuckled at the private joke. 

To the south another set of headlights appeared. That'll be the small red car, the man thought. The man felt himself tense a bit in anticipation. "Patience, Matt," he said to himself.

Matt's wristband beeped. It was time. Although he couldn't see it, he knew the driver of the truck would be falling asleep at that moment. A few seconds from now the driver would lose control and go off the road. 

For men of action like Matt, patience was sometimes a difficult thing. Even worse was standing back and watching during situations where he knew he could be of assistance. But Matt knew that he couldn't interfere, it was too important that he not do anything just yet. So Matt did one of the hardest things for him to do at that moment, he stood back and waited.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**  
_March 2006, Evening  
Smallville_

Chloe used her shoulder to gently push the door of the Talon open and stepped out into the cold evening air. The two cups of coffee she held in either hand made it difficult to open the door, but she managed anyway. She'd been pulling similar maneuvers for years. On most occasions, however, both cups would be for her but today she had reserved only one for herself. Although, she briefly thought about purchasing three, she decided that today was probably not a good day to go overboard on caffeine.

As she approached her car, she shivered involuntarily and mentally attempted to suck as much warmth from the cups in her hands as she could. Her coat seemed dreadfully unsuited for the weather at the moment, but she'd left her warmer one back at her dorm. She had come out to Smallville to spend the weekend with her father and hadn't paid much attention to the forecast, an oversight she was now very much regretting.

Chloe set the cups on the roof of her car and began digging through her purse for her keys. Finding them, she unlocked the door and opened it. There probably wasn't much need to lock her car doors in Smallville as she couldn't recall any cars ever having been stolen since she lived there. However, that was not the case at Met U and so the action of locking her doors had become habit over the past few months since she began school. She grabbed the cups from their resting place on the roof and reached over the driver's side seat and placed them in the cup holders mounted in the front console. She slid into the seat and quickly turned on the heat, eager to get the heat going. She'd spent too long talking to Lois and the car had grown too cold for comfort during that time.

She turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Soon heat was once again blasting out the vents and Chloe found herself flipping through the radio stations searching for something worth listening too. She was stalling and she knew it. Finally, after a few moments she slid the transmission into reverse and backed out of her parking spot. As she pulled up the street she briefly contemplated turning right and just drive towards Metropolis. She dismissed the thought though, knowing that she'd put tonight off a little longer than she should probably should have. So instead of turning right, she turned left and began the drive to the Kent Farm.

She felt a pang of sadness that the thought of the farm brought to her. It would place will never be the same again, she thought to herself. Jonathon Kent had been like a second father to her and his death had affected her a great deal. Obviously, her hurt was a mere shadow to Clark's.

She spoke with Clark on the phone regularly, but he always kept the conversation short. As much as she offered him help, he insisted that he was fine; that he just needed some time alone. So that is what she had given him, with the exception of the regular phone calls. It had been almost five weeks since she'd visited the farm, the last being the day of Jonathon's funeral. However, five weeks was long enough. She knew it would take quite a while for Clark to work through his grief, but she also knew that as his best friend it was time that she took a more active role to help him work through things.

It wasn't just Clark that she checked up on regularly, though. Martha was a mother figure to her, often the source of advice that only another woman could dispense. She'd had several conversations with Martha to see how she was coping. Jonathon's death hit her especially hard, but she was a strong woman and was managing. There was still a farm to run and while Chloe knew Clark could handle the work single handedly, Martha insisted that he spend his time with his school work and only do what she could not.

Of course Clark and Martha weren't the only two that Chloe found herself comforting. Lois had grown real close to the Kent's the past year and Jonathon had practically been her father during that time. The tough act that Lois had learned from "The General" was just that, an act. Lois was hurting and Chloe knew it.

Lana was a whole other matter altogether. She was never as close with Jonathon, in part because of her up again, down again relationship with Clark. Even though she had initiated a break between her and Clark earlier in the on which Jonathan had died, she attempted to put that aside for a time and comfort Clark. Apparently, Clark wasn't as willing. Lana returned to the dorm crying the day after the funeral. She didn't speak much about what had happened during her visit with Clark but it was clear that they hadn't gotten back together. Chloe knew that Lana's attempts with Clark weren't out of guilt or anything else other than genuine feelings. Lana really wanted to be there for Clark, she just didn't understand how too. Chloe knew Lana called Clark almost as often as she did, but the conversations were short and often left Lana discreetly wiping away tears after the call. When Chloe had gently probed Clark on the matter of Lana and him, he simply said that he was going through enough without adding any false hopes to the list. Chloe didn't mention it again and just tried to lift Lana's spirits when she could.

About ten minutes later, Chloe turned onto the driveway of the Kent Farm and slowly drove up the driveway. She then pulled the car to a stop just outside the door to the barn. As she approached she had seen the light in the loft was on and that would be the first place she would check. She pulled the handle on the door and used her left foot to kick it the rest of the way open. With both hands she reached to the cup holders and grabbed two cups of coffee. Carefully, she got out of the car and used her hip to push the car door closed. Two deep breaths later she headed in through the door.

Sure enough, she found Clark, sitting on the couch of the loft. He was leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands supporting his chin and his eyes just staring at the floor. As she reached the top of the stairs, Clark glanced over at her and gave a small smile. A smile, Chloe noted, that did match his eyes and appeared genuine. "What brings you here?" Clark asked softly.

"Just visiting my best friend," she said with a smile and a wink. She handed one of the cups to Clark who took it with a whispered, "Thanks."

Chloe plopped herself down on the couch a few inches from Clark and took a sip from her coffee. The two of them sat for a few moments, silently enjoying their drinks. Finally, after a couple of moments Clark broke the silence.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I'm doing?" Clark asked. His voice was level, devoid of any real emotion.

"Did you want me too?" Chloe asked in return.

"Not really. I'm tired of telling everyone that I talk to that I'm doing ok. I'm fine. I don't need any more sympathy right now." Clark kept his voice flat and devoid of emotion. Chloe decided not to press the matter.

"Fair enough. So what do you want to talk about?" Chloe asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you start? How have things been going?"   
"They've been ok. Busy as usual. Between the Planet and school, it rarely seems like I have anytime left for myself." Chloe paused for a moment then a smile came to her face. "I did go on a date last week."

Clark smiled and glanced over at her. Genuinely, he asked, "How'd that go?"

Chloe groaned in response and put hands over her face. "It was nightmare. He was a talker."

"What do mean by that?"

"He talked and talked and talked. I could barely get a word in edgewise. I-"

"Must have been pretty tough on you," Clark said, interrupting her. "You, unable to get a word in edgewise, stop the presses."

Chloe smacked him on the arm. "Funny Clark. I'm serious though, it was horrible. He wasn't even interesting, he just talked about himself and his many accomplishments. It was like a big brag session for him. I wanted to get out of there, but I didn't have anyway out since he drove. I've learned my lesson though, always meet them there on the first date and always have an excuse to get out of there."

Clark just chuckled as she spoke. After she finished her story they sat in silence for a moment, each taking a sip of their coffee. After another moment, Clark broke the silence again.

"I discovered a new power," he said while glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Chloe, who had just taken a drink, almost spit it out in surprise. Gaining control of herself, she asked in great interest, "OK. Care to share what it is?"

"It's not really that big of a deal, it's just a small power" Clark responded.

"Ok, first off, to someone who has no powers, every power is a big power. Second, just tell me what it is before I hurt you."

"Like you could."

"Clark," Chloe said, her tone rising. "You don't want to find out if I can. Now tell me."

"Infra-vision," Clark said smugly.

"What?" Chloe asked, confused.

"I'm calling it Infra-vision. I can see heat, although it's more than just that."

"What do you mean you can see heat?"

"It's just like I said, I can see heat. It's like those special cameras that they put in some police helicopters to help the police find people in the dark. It's pretty cool. If you walk across the floor, I can see your foot prints until they cool. I can also see radio waves and stuff like that."

Chloe was stunned. "Wow. How did you find that out? How is that even possible?"

"Well, I've been spending a lot of time up here thinking about…" Clark paused before adding, "stuff." Chloe knew what stuff he was talking about, but just let him continue. "I was thinking about my x-ray vision and I wondered if there was anything else I could see."

"And you figured since visible light and x-rays are just different frequencies of electromagnetic radiation you guessed you should be able to see other frequencies as well?"

Clark just stared for a moment, his mouth open. "Uh, yea. How'd you know?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Clark, I sat right next to you in physics last year. I learned about that stuff the same time you did. If it was that easy, I'm surprised you didn't figure that power out sooner."

Clark just shrugged, "I spent a lot of time in the past just avoiding using my powers. Trying something like that just never occurred to me until now."

"Well, I think that is pretty cool. Who knows what other powers you might have, just lurking below the surface," Chloe said and poked him in the ribs. Clark smiled in return.

The two spent nearly an hour talking. Overall the conversation was pretty light. They filled in each other on what they had heard was going on with old classmates, what television shows they'd been watching, and whatever else they could think of. Only two subjects were off limits, his dad and Lana.

Finally, Chloe looked at her watch. "I should get going, I have a long drive ahead of me," Chloe said a bit dejectedly. Then an idea sparked in her mind. "Come with me."

"What? To Metropolis?"

"Yeah, why not? You need to get out of here for a little while anyway. Lana won't be there so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can rent a couple of bad movies and stay up all night making fun of them. We haven't done anything like it since before Pete left."

"I don't know, Chloe. I'm not sure if I'm really up to it."

"Clark, it's not like you can't be back here in like 5 seconds if you decide you're not having any fun. Come on, what have you got to lose?"

Clark looked like he was giving the matter some serious thought but he apparently wasn't thinking fast enough because Chloe decided to get more forceful. "Clark, don't make me get your mom out here. There is no way she would let you stay here and we both know it."

Clark groaned. "Fine, you win."

Chloe hopped up and down a couple of times as she clapped her hands. "Yes! This'll be great, it'll be just like old times," she said as she extended her hand towards Clark, who grasped it tenderly. Chloe gave a sharp tug on his hand to prod him to stand up and follow her towards the stairs.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" Clark mumbled. Chloe just rolled her eyes in response as she continued to drag Clark towards the door of the barn.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Abe's Truck Stop lay about forty miles from Smallville and was the stopping place for all manner of travelers, not just those who drove the big rigs. In addition to the standard gas and diesel pumps and the convenient shop, Abe's had an attached diner. It was that diner that prompted the driver of one semi to pull off the highway with the intentions of getting a bite to eat.

The driver, John, slowed his eighteen wheeler and pulled it into on of the parking slots designated for the larger trucks. After he came to a full stop he released the pressure from the air brakes which resulted in a loud 'pssssst' sound. He took one more puff of the cigarette that poked out the corner of his mouth before snuffing it out in the ash tray. He grabbed his coat, opened the door and carefully climbed down to the ground below.

As John walked towards the doors of the diner, he briefly wondered how long he could stay. His destination, the LuthorCorp plant outside of Smallville, was less than an hour away but he was hungry and there was no telling how long it would actually take him to make the drop off once did arrive. No, he figured, screw them. He was hungry now so he was going to eat now.

He entered the small diner portion of the truck stop. It was really just a dozen or so tables that were on one side of the main shop with only an imaginary line separating the two. John wasn't picky; he'd seen worse many, many times. He grabbed a seat and glanced at the menu which consisted of only half sheet of paper with the day's specials printed on it. Not much to choose from but he figured he was just getting a burger and fries anyway. He'd never been to a truck stop where they didn't serve burgers and fries.

He didn't need to wait long before the waitress appeared from behind a set of double doors which appeared to lead to the kitchen. She took his order and before long his food arrived. John took his time in eating, not eager to get back on the road. As he ate he wondered what he was carrying in the trailer that evening. He'd been called in on his day off to make the special trip to Smallville. He'd been driving trucks for LuthorCorp for years but this was his first trip to their facility in Smallville. There was also a cloak of secrecy over whatever cargo he was carrying. When he asked about why it was so important that he had to be pulled in on his day off his manager responded by asking if he should offer the overtime to someone else. John had taken the hint and shut his mouth. Reality was that wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence especially working for LuthorCorp which often kept many of its projects under wraps.

So intent on his thoughts and on his meal, John didn't notice the woman approach until she had sat herself in the seat across from him. She was blond, attractive and appeared to be in her mid twenties. She gave him a tight smile that didn't touch her eyes. John was about to open his mouth to question her but she spoke first.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you, but would you mind if sat here for a moment? You see I'm traveling alone and there's a guy that's bugging me and I just need him to think that I'm here with someone."

The age old male instinct to protect newfound territory kicked in as John turned and looked over his shoulder to survey the rest of the truck stop. As he did so he asked, "Which one?"

"The uh, the one over by the beer with the baseball cap and a mustache," the woman responded. John spotted him right away and found him self glaring at him. The man with the mustache glanced over at John after a moment and gave him an odd look before grabbing a twelve pack and heading for the counter.

John turned and looked back at the woman who appeared to be still watching the man with the mustache. She began speaking, "Thanks for this. He started asking me all sorts of questions about where I was going and who I was with. It was really making me uncomfortable so I pointed you out and said I was with you and to leave me alone."

"No, it's no problem. I'm glad I could help." As he responded, John once again turned to watch the other man, who now appeared to be leaving. John and the woman sat in silence for another minute until the man with the mustache made his purchase and disappeared out the front door.

"He's gone," said the woman. "If you don't mind, I'll just sit her for another minute, just to make sure."

"No, take your time. I'll just keep eating, if you don't mind," John responded kindly.

"Go right ahead," she said.

John had just finished up his fries when the woman began to talking as she was beginning to stand up. "I think I saw him drive off, I think I'll be OK from here. Thanks again."

John, with his mouth full, just smiled and nodded. The woman didn't give him a chance to swallow his food before she hurried off. John turned and watched her go, admiring the view as she did so. It wasn't much longer before he finished the rest of his food and he waved the waitress over so he could pay. He checked his watch and was pleased that his little stop had only taken about thirty minutes or so. He could be back on the road and no one at LuthorCorp would be the wiser.

Later, as John drove his semi truck back onto the road, he was unaware that he was being watched. The woman who had sat with him briefly stood just behind the building, partially hidden in shadows. She stood watching the truck get further and further away and finally it disappeared from view. Just as it did so she became aware of another person standing nearby. She turned to find a man dressed in a black formfitting jumpsuit. "It's done, Matt. I slipped the drug into his drink while he was distracted."

Matt nodded and calmly replied, "I know."

"Oh, I forgot, you're Mr. Know-it-all tonight," the woman snapped.

Matt just shrugged, unwilling to let the woman's anger affect him. He had a great amount of sympathy for the position he had placed her in.

The woman glanced back in the direct the truck had disappeared in. "Just tell me that the driver will be ok," she said guiltily.

"He'll be fine," Matt said honestly. He then placed his hand on her shoulder and assured her, "You did the right thing."

"I hope so, because I'm not so sure," she said as she began staring at the ground. "I hope so," she to herself in barely a whisper, trying to convince herself.

* * *

Despite Clark's reluctance to go with Chloe to Metropolis, there was still apart of him that did think that it would be fun. He needed a break from the farm, school and everything else. The only problem was that Chloe was getting her way and Chloe Sullivan getting her way was a dangerous thing. He decided to show Chloe that he still had some semblance of control. With veiled amusement he slowed his pace.

Chloe turned around and with a stern voice said, "Hurry up Clark." As she spoke she gave another tug on his arm. In response Clark moved towards her, fast. He picked her up and carried her to the house, arriving less than a second later. He set her down on the porch and earned a smack on the arm for his little stunt.

"Damn it, Clark. That wasn't funny," Chloe scolded.

Clark couldn't keep the wide smile from his face. "You said to hurry up."

"I said hurry up, not to give me whiplash," Chloe retaliated.

Clark just continued to smile. "Come on, let's go say goodbye to my Mom," he said as he opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

Martha sat at the dining room table carefully reading through a stack of documents. Her newly accepted appointment as state senator was keeping her busy. The mounds of paperwork, budgets and proposed laws sapped what time she had left over from the farm. It was draining but she felt it was her duty, for Jonathan.

Martha looked up from her work as Clark and Chloe walked in. Seeing Chloe with Clark brought a bit of joy to her. She felt that Clark had been isolating himself a bit too much since Jonathan had died and he needed to spend time with his friends to help him cope. If there was one bad habit that Clark had picked up from Jonathon is the silly insistence that he handle everything on his own. Of course, she shouldn't forget about Jonathon's stubbornness, he certainly got that as well.

"Hey Chloe, I'm glad to see you," Martha said as she stood up from the table and walked over to Chloe. They hugged briefly. "What have you two been up to?"

"Mom, I'm going to ride with Chloe to Metropolis for the evening, and maybe hang out and watch some movies or something," Clark said.

"Oh. That sounds like fun," Martha said. Then, glancing over at Chloe she said, "I'm glad you could finally get him out of the barn. If he hung out there much longer I was afraid I was going to have to set up another trough."

Chloe chuckled. "Yea, I know what you mean. I practically had to threaten him to get him to agree."

"Well I'm glad. Now you two get out of here. You have a long ride ahead of you."

"Bye, Mom," Clark said giving his mom a hug. Then he stood back as Chloe and Martha hugged again.

"Bye, Clark. Have fun."

Martha watched from the screen door as her son and Chloe walked out to Chloe's car. While they did so she heard a sound she hadn't heard in weeks; the sound of Clark's laughter. She was glad that no matter what happened to Clark, he could always turn to Chloe to help him get through it. She gave a wave, which was returned, right before the two jumped into Chloe's small red car. A few seconds after they drove off she returned to her work with her spirits lifted a bit, at least for the moment.


	4. Chapter 3

Clark stared out the window of the car looking at the passing scenery. He hadn't said much since they left Smallville and Chloe had felt it would be better if she let him have his quiet time, if only for the moment. It was an accomplishment that she had gotten him away from the farm and she didn't want to spoil anything. The further they got away from Smallville the better and the less likely he would change his mind and run back to the farm.

Chloe guided the car around a bend in the two lane road. They were passing through the woods that lay just to the east of Smallville and road wound quite a bit in that area. About a quarter mile down the road Chloe noticed a set of oncoming headlights which appeared to be drifting into her lane. Chloe could tell it was a semi truck from the various other lights that were mounted on the sides and top of the cab. As a precaution Chloe began to let up on the gas.

The semi drifted even further over until it was all the way over into Chloe's lane. At that point, Clark, noticing that they were slowing down, glanced forward and saw the danger. He put his hand on Chloe's arm and spoke, "Perhaps you should pull off the road and stop." Chloe nodded and began to apply the brake.

The semi only continued in the other lane for a few seconds and then, without warning, it drifted over further and drove off the side of the road. "Oh my God," Chloe exclaimed as both her and Clark watched the semi barrel through small trees with a series of loud snapping sounds that could be heard quite well even with the distance that separated them. 

The semi suddenly struck a larger tree that held against the massive force that smashed into it. The trailer of the semi continued forward, causing the semi to jackknife as the cab was forcefully turned to the left and almost completely around. As it jackknifed the cab was forced away from the tree allowing semi and trailer to skid another five feet before finally coming to a stop.

Clark and Chloe could only watch in shock. "Get us up there," Clark hurriedly. Chloe punched the gas and about ten seconds later she screeched the car to a halt. Clark jumped out of the car, barely keeping himself from ripping the door from its hinges in the process. He took a step towards the wreckage ready turn on the speed when he felt it. There was kryptonite everywhere.

Chloe also jumped out of the car and noticing that Clark had paused asked, "What's wrong?"

"Kryptonite, Chloe. It's everywhere. I don't see a way around it."

"Then you stay here, I'll see what I can…"

"NO!" Clark said, cutting her off. "I can smell gas. I think the truck could start on fire. You're not going anywhere near it." Without giving Chloe another chance to respond, Clark moved. Taking one step forward he then jumped high into the air, passing over the kryptonite littered ground and landing on the roof of the trailer with a loud THUD. Strangely, although he had felt the kryptonite energy hit him as he passed over it, once he landed on the trailer it seemed to withdraw. Using his x-ray vision he scanned the trailer. A large rectangular device, at least twenty feet long was located in the trailer directly below him and appeared to be lined with lead.

The mysterious cargo and the fact that "LuthorCorp" was emblazoned on the side of the trailer caused Clark to think of just one name, Lex. The thought made him scowl. He quickly pushed his thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. He ran across the top of the trailer to the cab. Since the truck was jackknifed the cab was turned almost completely around allowing Clark to make only a small jump to reach the hood of the semi; which he did, easily. Once off the trailer and away from the lead shielding the kryptonite hit him again and began to sap his strength. He attempted to ignore the pain, to push through it, but it was difficult.

The hood was smashed quite a bit from the impact with the tree but it still allowed Clark the movement that he needed. Rather than risk getting any closer to the kryptonite than he had to he punched through the already spider-webbed glass of the front windshield. He ripped the rest of the windshield all the way off and tossed it aside. With the windshield gone Clark was able to get a better look at the driver.

The driver was unconscious with blood oozing from his forehead and running down his face. Clark reached in the cab and felt the driver's pulse. It was strong, much to Clark's relief. Clark leaned in further and ripped the seat belt away. Then, grabbing the driver with a hand under each arm, Clark pulled him out of the cab and onto the hood.

As Clark lifted the driver with some effort he heard something that made his stomach drop; the sound of sparks. Clark turned towards the sound, which appeared to be coming from the trailer. Located on the bottom of the trailer, just out of view was something that had started to send out a shower of sparks. Worse yet, Clark hadn't been lying to Chloe earlier, he had smelled gas. Now using his keen eyes to look closer at the ground he could see a steady stream of liquid making its way towards the shower of sparks. He had only moments to spare.

Given his proximity to the kryptonite Clark knew he was no where near strong enough to jump himself and the driver clear. He looked around and spotted a large cluster of bushes about 50 feet away. It wasn't much but it would help cushion a landing. Even if the driver got hurt more, at least he'll be alive, Clark reasoned. Using what strength he had, Clark spun around twice and hurled the driver the full distance to the bushes. Not waiting to see how well the driver landed, Clark turned jumped up to top of the trailer once again. He took couple of breaths, feeling strength beginning to return a bit, then he readied himself to jump clear of the truck.

A stray spark flew a little further than the rest and landed in the fuel, igniting it.

Matt stood behind a tree further back in the woods watching the scene unfold. From his vantage point he could clearly see what was happening on the truck. He had felt a sense of pride as he watched Clark leap the distance from the highway to the truck. He knew the effects that Clark was under as he pulled the driver free and threw him a safe distance away. As Clark jumped to the top of the trailer, readying himself to jump clear, Matt knew he wouldn't be fast enough. Not this time. In anticipation, Matt reached down and removed a sphere-like device that was clipped to his belt.

The flames swept towards the fuel tank, igniting it. The resulting explosion gathered strength from the meteor rocks that lay on the ground nearby. Clark tried to jump away just as the explosion occurred.

The device in the trailer was punctured and the hill erupted in white light.

Chloe watched as Clark had leapt to the truck. She had felt a bit of annoyance when he got protective like that, but quickly dispelled the thought, knowing he was usually right. She watched him pull the driver out and quickly grew concerned as she saw Clark throw him away from the truck. Clark had then jumped back onto the trailer and had turned towards her as if he was ready to jump when the explosion occurred.

Chloe had to turn her head, the light was so bright. What was odd was the bright light continued and was a different color than from what she would have expected. Shielding her eyes as much as she could, she looked around for Clark. She couldn't look directly at the truck but she looked everywhere else. "Clark!" she called out. There was no response. Chloe then saw movement coming from the trees. It wasn't Clark. A blond man, dressed in black could be seen walking towards the truck and the light. Suddenly, he threw something that seemed to light up in a blue light. As the blue light touched the white, the white light turned blue and then seemed to collapse upon itself.

Chloe could only stare in wonder. She wasn't prepared for the shockwave that followed as it threw her back against her car, slamming her head against the hood. Then there was only darkness.


	5. Chapter 4

The explosion hit Clark full on just as he was about to jump. The kryptonite particles added a punch to something that he normally wouldn't have blinked at. Instead he felt an extreme amount of pain and then he saw a blinding light just before he passed out.

From the dark corners of his mind Clark clawed at consciousness. His mind was clouded as his body was still in too much pain. His eyes remained closed, as he didn't have the will to open them yet. He was lying on the ground and he could feel warmth on his face. He could sense bright light fighting to get past his eyelids and his ears rang. As the moments passed, he felt the pain begin to subside and the cloud of his thoughts begin to part. He attempted to open his eyes but the light was still too bright.

Amongst the myriad of thoughts that he was experiencing he briefly wondered what had caused the light. Was it another LuthorCorp experiment gone into disarray? Lex would have the answers; he always did, although he often denied it. 

The ringing in his ears eased and he began to hear more clearly. He thought to himself that his head must really be rattled because the flames nearby were starting to sound more like insects than flames.

He stopped himself. _No,_ he thought, _that isn't the sound of fire, that really is the sound of insects. Where was the fire?_ Panic began to well up in him. With great effort he brought his right arm up to shield his face and then he carefully opened his eyes.

The sun was shining brightly on the field of grass where he found himself. With all the strength he had, he forced himself to sit up. He continued to shield his eyes as he looked around. There was no wreck, no fire and most importantly of all, there was no Chloe.

In a nearby tree was a beehive. In his semi-consious state his mind mistook the bees for the sound of fire and the heat and light from the sun as the fire.

From the surrounding area he was pretty sure he knew where he was at. The field was a couple miles west of the farm, between Granville and Smallville. He and Pete had ventured over to this area a couple of times during Junior High. How on earth did he get here? he wondered.

His eyes adjusted quicker now as his body was continuing to heal. With some effort he slowly stood, although his knees shook a bit at first. He surveyed the ground looking for signs of how he may have gotten there. There were none. He briefly wondered if he was imagining the car ride with Chloe but the singes on his jacket left little doubt that he wasn't. He had to find Chloe and he had to find answers.

He began to make his way in the direction to where he knew the road lay. He began at a slow walk but was able to quicken his pace as he went. By the time he reached the road a couple minutes later he'd reached the pace of an Olympic runner. He wasn't fully recovered but after another couple of minutes and he knew he would be. He began to run down the road towards his home, this time keeping his pace to above average until the last mile he felt strong enough to move at full speed. Seconds later he was home.

He was up the driveway just passing the barn when the sight before him stopped him cold. All the windows of his house were boarded up as well as the doors. The yard was also in need of care, apparently having gone quite a while without being mowed. He glanced over to the barn from the open door he could see that it was empty. Running over to the barn he ran up to the loft to also find that it was empty. In a panic now, he ran to the house and ripped of the large piece of plywood covering the front door. Breaking the lock on the door he stepped inside to find what he feared most. The house was completely empty.

Clark turned and stepped back out onto the porch. He again wondered if this was some sort of nightmare, but dismissed it quickly. He forced himself to calm down as he had been near panicking. He was now worried about his mom as well as Chloe. He had to find them and to make sure they were safe. If Chloe was safe, he knew the first place he should look; the Daily Planet.

Within seconds he was there, stopping in an alley nearby and walking the rest of the way at a normal pace. As he passed by a news stand he realized that he wasn't even sure what the day was. Glancing at the date on the front page of an issue of the Daily Planet, he was shocked at what he found. The date read May 8, 2006. Almost two months had passed!

Dumbfounded, Clark continued to walk towards the Daily Planet. He walked slowly, still in utter disbelief at everything that was happening. It was almost too much to handle. He was so deep in thought that as he approached the main doors he almost missed the perky blond that had just pushed open one of the doors and had stepped outside. Relief filled him.

Clark ran over to Chloe, who didn't seem to notice him until he was standing right in front of him. "Chloe, I'm so glad you're alright. I've been worried sick."

Chloe looked back it with confusion painted on her face. She like she was going to say something, paused while appearing to look him over, and then continued. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Chloe, stop kidding around. I don't know what happened to me. The last thing I remember was that that truck exploding then I woke up in some field outside of Granville," Clark said getting a little frustrated.

"Look, I think you have the wrong person. I really have no idea who you are," Chloe responded forcefully. 

"I'm serious, Chloe. Stop kidding around." This time as he spoke, Clark began to feel quite unsure of himself, afraid that she was in fact telling the truth. "I need to figure out what happened."

"Look, Psycho, I have no idea who you are. I've never seen you in my life." As she spoke she nonchalantly put her hand in her purse. "If one of my friends put you up to this, you should know you picked the wrong person." As she finished she moved to walk past him.

At a loss for words and in desperation, Clark reached out his hand to place it on her arm, an innocent sign for her to wait. Chloe did not take it innocently as she quickly pulled her hand from her purse and brought it in front of Clark's face. Clark was puzzling out what she was doing when a stream of liquid shot him in the eyes. He took a step back in surprise. It was pepper spray.

Chloe took the opportunity afforded to her and slipped away. The pepper spray didn't affect Clark, he merely wiped it from his eyes without irritation. The greater blow had come at the realization that Chloe really didn't recognize him. That his best friend had just pepper sprayed him. If she wouldn't help him, where could he turn now? All Clark could do was wonder as he watched Chloe walk off.

As soon as she felt she was a safe distance away from the dark haired guy Chloe glanced back. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second. Chloe noticed two things. First, that the pepper spray seemed to have worn of extremely quickly as the guy didn't act like his eyes were even irritated. She felt that was extremely odd as she didn't receive the blast full on and her eyes still stung a bit. The second was the genuine look of desperation that the guy had in his eyes.

She turned away quickly and hurried toward her car, eager to get away from the situation. She told herself that she had done the right thing, that something was obviously wrong with the guy. However, the more she thought about it, the more the doubt grew. It was that look in his eyes as she had walked away. It was more than just desperation and the lack of affect from the pepper spray. There was something else there that made her keep thinking about him but she couldn't put her finger on it. 

One thing she was sure of. She knew would see him again. She wasn't sure why she knew, but deep down she knew.


	6. Chapter 5

Clark sat sipping a cup of coffee in what seemed to him as one of the most unlikely of places imaginable, The Beanery. The simple fact was that The Beanery had gone out of business a couple of years before. Business had fallen sharply after a couple of bad health inspections and with the Talon as competition it had never been able to recover. That was at least how Clark had remembered things occurring. Yet there he was sitting in The Beanery and staring out the window at the parking garage a block down the street where the Talon should be located. It was but one of many things wrong with the world around him.

After Chloe's strange reaction with him, Clark had ran back to Smallville to attempt to get some answers there. It was quite a bit different than the town he remembered. Buildings that Clark only remembered seeing in old pictures still stood. It was if the meteor showers that had struck Smallville had never occurred. Along with that, no one in Smallville seemed to recognize him. People he had known for years would simply nod or give a polite hello whenever he greeted them. He could always see in their eyes that they did not recognize him.

Unsure of what he should do, Clark had thought that it would be a good idea to sit down, relax and to think things through. His plan had worked as he felt calmer and felt himself thinking clearer as he drank his second and third cups of coffee.

Shortly after dark he paid for the five cups of coffee he had consumed and left. Ducking into a nearby alley he then turned on his incredible speed and ran to Smallville High. He knew that he could get access to a computer so he figured it would be a good place to start. At full speed, he ran through one of the side doors and upstairs to the Torch. He broke the lock and stepped inside.

Clark smiled when he entered as the memories of the many hours he had spent there came back. It had been almost a year since he had been in that room. However, in some ways it was a much different Torch than he remembered; feeling strangely empty without the Wall of Weird. With the exception of the first couple of weeks of high school, the Torch was never without the Wall. It didn't feel like the Torch without it. Granted Chloe had taken the Wall down on the last day of school and no doubt it would look something like the room before him if things were back to normal, but it still felt odd.

Clark scanned the room quickly and found one of the first items that he was interested in looking at on a far shelf; the year books. He picked up the year book for his senior year, going of the year number as the cover was quite different now. It made him a bit apprehensive at what he might find inside. Taking it with him, he walked over to the nearby couch and took a seat.

He slowly began to turn the pages, carefully examining each picture. Quite a few students were pictured that hadn't been there before, the first of which being Alicia Baker. It lifted his spirits to know that Alicia hadn't been put into Belle Reve and most likely was still alive. He continued looking.

His worst fear came true when he got to the letter 'K'. He was not listed. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut while holding kryptonite, though it did explain Chloe's reaction as well as the reaction of other people in town to him. Thinking of Chloe, he flipped back to S and saw her smiling face. He stared at her picture, wondering if there was anyway he could convince this Chloe of what had happened, if there were anyway he could get her to help him. The thought was interrupted when he noticed the picture of Pete. He felt his spirits drop just a little more at the sight of it. It was just further proof that Pete had left for Wichita to get away from Clark and his secret.

Clark flipped through the rest of the year book at super speed, pausing for only half a second when he saw a picture of Lana. As his thoughts started to drift to all his regrets with her, he stopped himself and forced himself to think about something else. They wouldn't help him get of his current situation. Deciding that he was done with the year book, Clark stood up and placed it back where he got it. He hadn't learned anything too useful but it put things in perspective of how different things were now.

If he was going to figure out a way to fix things, Clark knew he was going to have to find out more about what had happened. His thinking was that since a LuthorCorp truck was involved, that was where he should start. Sitting down at the computer, Clark first decided to check into how Lex was doing here. The results of a quick Google search of Lex's name stopped him cold. "Billionaire's Son Dies in Tragic Car Accident," the first result read. Hesitating, Clark clicked the link and slowly read it over. He grew angry and frustrated as he finished the article. Lex had died in the very accident Clark had saved him from several years ago. While, Clark could barely call Lex his friend anymore, reading about his death was almost too much.

Reading about Lex's death brought a chilling thought to his mind. His parents, what had happened to them? What couldn't be accomplished by Lex's death was accomplished when he found the report of his dad's death. The circumstances were very similar, heart attack, only this time it was almost two years sooner. Clark decided he had had enough. He couldn't finish the article. He stood up and left, not bothering to log off the computer. He knew he should look into his mom's whereabouts but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If she were dead too… He didn't want to think about it.

He ran to the only place he could think of. He ran back home. He entered the empty home and he wandered upstairs. Taking a look around with his x-ray vision he spied an old blanket on the top shelf of a closet that must have been inadvertently left during the move out. He got it out and curled up on the floor of his room.

For a couple of hours Clark just stared at the ceiling, contemplating his predicament. He tried to find sleep but it evaded him. During those first few hours he experienced a roller coaster ride of emotions: anger, frustration, bitterness, despair, and hopelessness. His eventually drifted to his dad, as they usually did the past few weeks. His dad always knew what to say to give the confidence to move forward. Clark remembered the day that he told his dad that his dad's job wasn't to protect him; his dad's job was to teach him how to protect himself. The question came to Clark's mind, _Did he teach me enough?_ Clark knew that he had. Whatever happened from there on out, Clark knew he would be able face it. He was determined to figure things out if he could. He would set things right.

Sleep came quickly after and Clark was able slept peacefully until daylight.

_

* * *

_

_Metropolis  
One Day Later_

Chloe pulled her car into a parking spot outside her apartment building. It was just after dark and it had been a long day. Between a full class schedule and her part time internship at the Planet, Chloe often wondered how she found time for herself. Well, she determined she would find some time that night. A long hot bath, maybe read a couple of chapters the mystery novel she was part way through. No distractions.

As Chloe got out of the car, laptop bag and purse in hand she caught sight of someone out the corner of her eyes. The person appeared out of the shadows and was approaching her. Without thinking she slipped her hand into her purse, just in case. Seconds later she was glad she did.

"Chloe," the person said. It was the dark haired guy from the day before. Her every instinct told her that she should feel scared, at least nervous. Normally she would have been, but for some reason she wasn't. Although she didn't feel scared, she was not stupid either.

"What the hell do you want?" she said, almost yelling. By now he had stopped a couple of feet away. She didn't give him a chance to respond as she pulled her hand from her purse and jammed it into his stomach. When the pepper spray had failed to work the day before, Chloe had opted to carry something a little more forceful, her stun gun. Chloe once dropped a 300 pound drunk football player with that gun so she was sure her expression of surprise matched the stranger's when she zapped him.

The stranger stepped back, holding his hands out in a sign in a sign of non-aggression. "Hold on, Chloe. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk. I need your help."

Chloe looked at him and then back at the stun gun. She triggered it and watched electricity crackle across the two forward tips. It was working. "The last person I zapped with this dropped like a rock and cried like a baby for almost five minutes. Why are you still standing?" Chloe asked cautiously.

"Listen Chloe, there are a lot of things that don't affect me, but that's not really important right now. What is important is that although you don't know it, we're friends. Best friends."

Chloe shook her head. "I never saw you in my life, before yesterday."

The guy nodded. "I know that's what you remember. For me, I've known you since the eighth grade. Yesterday, you and I were driving to Metropolis when we witnessed a truck accident. We stopped to help and I was too close to the truck when it exploded. The next thing I know, I wake up and it appears as though two months have passed. On top of that, nobody recognizes me, including you."

"Well that's a great story, but you can't really expect me to believe it, can you? What proof do you have?" Chloe asked; her skepticism apparent.

The guy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. Opening it up he removed several pictures and offered them to Chloe. Chloe set her books down on the top of the car and snatched the pictures from him. She kept the stun gun handy although she didn't see how it would do her any good. She was astonished at what she saw when she looked at the pictures. There were three in total. One with her and this guy, another with her, the guy and Pete, and the third had her, the guy and Lana Lang.

Chloe shook her head disbelieving. She held them back out to the guy. "Well, I see someone is really good at using PhotoShop, but…"

"Chloe, look on the back," the guy responded. She did.

Each picture was addressed to "Clark" and was clearly written in her handwriting. "I take it, you're name is Clark," she said. He nodded. She stared at the writing for a few moments longer before held them out to him again. "I'm sorry; this is just too much to believe. What you're saying isn't possible."

"Then how do you explain your hand writing on the back," Clark asked with frustration as he took the pictures back and placed them carefully back in his wallet.

"I don't know. Obviously they're forgeries. What you're suggesting just isn't possible."

Clark nodded for a second, looking at the ground as he did so. Then he suddenly looked back up into her eyes. "So it's the possible that you're concerned about?" he asked. He didn't give her a chance to respond as he moved around her and took her books off the car and held them out to her. After Chloe took them from him, Clark bent down and put his hand under the car. Looking up into Chloe's eyes for a brief second, he lifted the back end of the car up a good two feet. Chloe took a couple steps back in surprise. Clark continued to hold the back end up for about 30 seconds before gently setting it back down. "Trust me Chloe, nothing is impossible," he said.

"How?" was all Chloe could ask.

"I can explain everything, in time. Right now, I need to know that you're willing to help me. You were always better at research then me and I need that now. I need your help to figure out what happened to me. Please help me." Clark pleaded.

Chloe looked over Clark. He was wearing the same clothes that he had on the previous day during their encounter in front of the Planet. They looked like he slept in. Her head told her that what he said wasn't possible, couldn't be possible. And it really had nothing to do with the fact that he had lifted the car with consummate ease. Her heart told her to trust him, something about him felt genuine.

Chloe went with her heart. "Come inside," she said, hoping she wouldn't regret her decision later.


	7. Chapter 6

Clark watched Chloe fumble with her keys as she got them out of her purse. He could tell she was a little nervous so he kept his distance and stayed relatively quiet. Her nervousness was making him nervous. He didn't want to put his foot in his mouth or do anything to that might jeopardize the situation. Once she unlocked the door she looked back at him as if thinking things over one more time. He gave her a reassuring smile, which seemed to work as she motioned for him to go inside.

He stepped inside and looked around. It was a small two bedroom apartment. Nice, but nothing fancy. Wanting to make some sort of conversation, he decided it was a good starter. "Nice place you have here. Different from what I remember." When Chloe looked at him suspiciously after his comment, he explained. "You were staying in a dorm, the way I remember things."

Chloe nodded although she kept the suspiciously look. "Thanks," she said, after hesitating a second. "My dad pays for most of it. He didn't want his little girl to be cooped up in a small dorm."

Clark nodded as he continued to look around. He decided to take a small risk. "I guess being the manager of the Smallville LuthorCorp plant pays well enough to afford to." Chloe only responded with a shrug, telling Clark that he had guessed correctly. Without him around there had been no deal with Lionel, which meant Gabe had never been fired.

For a moment there was only an awkward silence as both tried to decide what to do next. Chloe finally broke the silence. "I guess if I'm supposed to help you, you'd better explain everything to me. And I mean everything, including how you're able to lift cars and shrug off stun guns and pepper spray."

Clark looked her in the eyes for a moment and nodded. "You'd better sit down," he said.

For the next couple of hours they sat at opposite ends of the couch in Chloe's living room as Clark told his story. He talked about their friendship and their little adventures together. Occasionally, Chloe would interrupt him with a few questions but overall she just allowed him to talk as she judged his sincerity. He was completely open and honest with her in everything except his true origins and related issues and about some of the lower points in their relationship. Rather than tell her he was an alien, he simply told her that he was born that way and skillfully deflected any follow up questions on the issue.

It was during Clark's retelling of his father's death that Chloe realized that she believed him. At least she believed that he believed what he was saying. She wasn't quite sure if he was delusional or not but she was quickly deciding that was not the case.

"And so here I am," Clark said, after finishing with the events of the past few days. He just watched Chloe, waiting for her to speak. He wasn't sure what else he could say.

"Wow," Chloe said after a few seconds as she shook her head in disbelief. "I'm not really sure what to say after everything you've told me."

"Just say that you'll help me," Clark said, his eyes pleading with her.

Chloe nodded and looked over at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late. I'm guessing you don't have a place to stay." When Clark shook his head, Chloe continued, "Well, you're welcome to stay the couch. However, I have an early morning class so there's not much I'm going to be able to help with tonight." She stood up as she finished speaking.

"The couch will be great. Thanks," Clark said, also standing.

Chloe nodded in response and replied, "You're welcome. It's no problem."

Clark asked, "You won't mind if I use your computer to do some more research into what may have caused this while you sleep?" He motioned over to the iMac sitting on small desk on the opposite side of the room.

"No, that'll be fine; whatever you need. There's also some food in the fridge, if get hungry. I'll just go get your blanket and pillow for the couch."

As she started to turn, Clark spoke again. "Uh, Chloe, this is going to sound weird, but I noticed you had a laptop too…" Chloe looked back at him curiously and nodded. "I was wondering if I could use that as well."

"Prefer to do your research from the comfort of the couch?" Chloe asked with a smile.

"Uh… no. You see… Well, it'll be easier if I show you. You don't mind do you?"

"No. Again, whatever you need. I'll get it set up for you." She walked over to the front door and picked up the laptop bag from its resting place since she and Clark had entered the apartment. A few moments later she had the power cord plugged in and the laptop was powering up. "I have a wireless network so you should be all set. I'll be right back."

"Thanks," Clark said as she was walking away.

Chloe returned a few moments later with a pillow and a spare blanket. Clark had taken a seat and she could hear him tapping feverishly away but his huge frame blocked the majority of her view. Shaking her head she proceeded to get the couch ready for when Clark decided to go to sleep. Once she was finished, she walked over to see what Clark was doing. The sight caught her off guard. Now she understood why Clark had wanted her laptop as well as her computer. He was using both at the same time! With his left hand only he was typing away on the laptop at a rate that was beyond even her using both hands. With his right he navigated through various web pages at a mind numbing pace by use of the keyboard alone. He never reached for the mouse.

For a moment he stopped and glanced over at her. He gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged. "I don't get to do this very often. I don't have two computers at home and finding a place where I can do this is difficult."

"How…?" Chloe started to ask and then stopped herself. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. "Never mind, I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night and thanks again," Clark said.

He had set to work again by the time she reached the door to her bedroom. Pausing for a moment for one last look at him, she shook her head in disbelief and then went into her room and closed the door. Rubbing her temples to fight off a headache that she felt coming on, she muttered, "I must be going crazy."

From the living room she heard Clark call out, "How do you think I feel?" She groaned. She had forgotten that he had mentioned super hearing as one of his abilities.

Curling into bed a few minutes later, Chloe wondered if it was all a bad dream. Maybe she would wake up in the morning and all would be back to normal. She knew she was going to be disappointed.

_

* * *

_

_One day later_

Chloe stormed into her apartment, several shopping bags held one hand and a large cloth bag filled with clean laundry in the other. "You're never going to believe what happened," she said out loud, the anger in her voice was clearly evident. She knew that Clark would be able to hear her, even though he wasn't in her immediate view. She set the bags down on a small table that was placed close to the apartment's kitchen. Turning towards the living room, she spotted Clark sitting on the couch, obviously not happy, and the sight was enough to lift her spirits, if only for the moment.

"What took you so long?" Clark asked, his voice filled annoyance.

"Sorry, I had some difficulties," Chloe said.

"More difficult than having to sit in this?" he asked, gesturing at his apparel.

Chloe kept herself from smiling, although it took almost every ounce of willpower she had. Clark was wrapped in an ill-fitting, pale green robe with a blanket draped over his legs. It was a very comical sight and one that she was responsible for.

Having been wearing the same clothes for what was now the fourth day, Chloe had offered to wash them for him. Her apartment wasn't equipped with a washer and dryer unit so she ended up making weekly trips to the local laundry mat. As Clark literally only had the clothes on his back, they had been forced to improvise until she got back with his clothes. The bath robe was all that she could find that had any hope of fitting him. It didn't do that good of a job.

Clark didn't wait for her to answer. "Look, never mind. Can I just have my clothes back?"

Chloe took a deep breath. "Actually, no you can't-"

"What to you mean I can't?" Clark asked, interrupting her. "Stop playing around Chloe. This is humiliating enough as it is without you making things worse."

"Someone stole your clothes," she stated flatly, causing Clark's eyes to widen and his jaw to drop.

"What do you mean someone stole my clothes?"

"It's exactly what I said. I was at the laundry mat and I had just put our laundry in the dryer. I remember seeing your jeans and flannel when I did. Then my boss called and I got distracted and someone must have stolen them while I wasn't paying attention."

"You didn't see who might have done it?"

Chloe shook her head. "And it was only your clothes."

Clark leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well, lucky for you I took the liberty of going shopping and picking you up a few replacements."

On instinct, Clark started to say, "Chloe, you didn't-"

Chloe interrupted him. "Oh, yes I did. As funny as the sight of you in my robe is, its not THAT funny and I would like it back. Not to mention the fact that I do feel responsible. So come here and take a look at what I got you."

She spent the next couple of minutes pulling various shirts and pants from the several shopping bags she had brought in earlier and holding them up to Clark. Clark just took it in stride and went along with things.

Finally, after she put the last shirt down in the semi-large pile she turned to him and asked, "So what do you think?"

"They're great. Thanks." Clark said, hesitating slightly.

Chloe folded her arms, giving him an inquisitive gaze. "Why does it sound like there is a "but" that you'd like to add."

"No, it is great… It's just that… Well, none of this is really my style," Clark said, still hesitating.

"Trust me Clark, if those other clothes were an indication of your "style" then I'm doing you a HUGE favor. Besides the nearest Tractor Supply store is about an hour from here and I wasn't going to make the drive. These will be great, trust me."

Clark knew that look in Chloe's eyes. He wasn't going to win so he needed to cut his losses and accept them. "I hope you didn't spend too much. You know I only have a couple of dollars."

Chloe waved her hand, dismissing his comment. "Don't worry about it. I said I would help you so you can just consider this the first bit of help that I can offer." She gave him a reassuring smile, which he returned. "Now go get dressed. I prefer my research partners to be fully clothed and we have a lot of work to do."

Clark continued to smile as he grabbed the pile of clothes and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

Matt lowered the binoculars that he had been using to peer into the apartment across the street with. Quickly he began placing the plastic caps over each of the lenses. Stooping down, he unzipped the black duffle bag that lay at his feet. He shoved the binoculars into the bag which also contained the newly acquired flannel shirt and jeans from earlier that day. He quickly zipped it back up and picked it up.

There were risks involved with observing Clark for too long. With Clark's enhanced senses, anyone watching him could easily find themselves being the one who was being observed. Matt wasn't ready for Clark to know about him yet. That time would come soon enough.


	8. Chapter 7

_September 2006  
Four Months Later_

Chloe glanced at the clock on her computer and grumbled to herself about the time. It was well past 11pm, another night stuck writing obituaries and the like at the Daily Planet. She quickly chided herself for her negativity, knowing that she was going to have to put in her time if she ever wanted to get to the next level. She thought about it often; dreamed about it, actually.

Her work as an intern had already paid off and she had been offered a position as a news-assistant. It was still considered entry level but it was a step up from intern. Next stop, Junior Reporter, from there she hoped she would reach full Reporter status in the next few years. She could end up being the youngest reporter for the Daily Planet since Perry White.

She sighed and pushed her daydreams aside for a bit. Instead she remembered that she needed to call Clark to see if he'd found out anything useful that day. She wasn't too optimistic, it had been four months and they were still at square one. Well, at square one in terms of how to get Clark home.

In the past four months Clark had been learning everything he could on the subjects of time travel, alternate dimensions, worm holes, quantum mechanics, string theory, and anything else that could be related to his situation. He had literally read hundreds of books and with his photographic memory could pretty much quote them, line for line. He had circumnavigated the globe, speaking with scores of professors and scientists, all experts in their various fields. Clark continually astounded Chloe with his genius when he really focused on something. By now he was an expert in the various subjects he was researching. Yet they were still at square one.

One of the biggest hurdles was that even though they knew a lot about what could have happened to Clark, there was more than one possibility and unfortunately they had no way to narrow them down. Frankly, she didn't understand half of his theories; many of them were so complex. All the uncertainties wreaked havoc on any progress they hoped to make.

Chloe picked up the phone on her desk and dialed the number to her apartment. After the third ring Clark picked up the phone and answered with a, "Hey."

"Hey yourself. How'd things go today?" Chloe asked, as she felt her mood improve just at the sound of his voice. He usually had that effect on her lately.

"The same," was the response. Chloe understood what he meant, he hadn't learned anything new. Another trip wasted.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe you'll have more luck next time."

"Maybe," he said. The both sat on the phone for a moment, and then Clark spoke again. "I went to see her again today." By her, Chloe knew he meant Martha Kent.

"Did you speak to her this time?" She knew what the answer would be, but she asked anyway.

"No… You know I wouldn't know what to say." Frustration laced his voice. Chloe couldn't blame him. She wouldn't know what to say either.

Chloe had helped him track down Martha a few months ago. It seemed Martha had decided not to sit idle as life passed her by. She had moved to Metropolis and was now working at a local law firm as a paralegal and had also entered law school. It was the same law firm her father had started and was still a silent partner in so he most likely had pulled some strings from her. Clark would sit on the roof of the building across from her apartment from time to time, just so he could catch sight of her. In a way it made him feel closer to home, if only for a moment.

"I miss her Chloe. I miss them both," Clark said softly into the phone. Chloe couldn't imagine how hard it was for him. He had just lost his father and now he was separated from his mother for who knows how long.

"I know you do and I know how tough things are for you. However, if we just stick with it, I'm sure we'll figure out how to get you home. If there's anyone that can accomplish anything they set there mind to, it's you." She believed every word.

"Only when you're helping me out," Clark said with a chuckle. Then his voice grew a little more serious. "I hope you understand how much you're help has meant to me. I'm not sure what I would have done without you."

"It's no problem Clark. I know you would have done the same for me. It's what makes you so special." Chloe paused for a moment after the last comment. She was getting to know him well enough that she knew he would be blushing on the other end.

"In a heartbeat," Clark finally said.

"Well, I just wanted to see how things were. I should probably get back to work. I have a few more things to do before I leave tonight."

"Ok. I'll see you when you get home." Clark said.

"Bye." Chloe said and then hung up the phone. For a few moments she sat there thinking about Clark. About his predicament and the she started thinking about those dark locks that almost reached his piercing green eyes… She sighed and shook her head. "Careful Sullivan," she said out loud to herself, "who knows how long he'll be around."

She did her best to clear any thoughts of him out of her head, doing only an adequate job, and got back to work. She was so engrossed in her work and the occasional thought about Clark, that she was startled suddenly when she heard someone clear their throat. Glancing over in the direction from which the sound came, she saw that there was a man standing just inside the doors to the room. He was tall, had short blond hair and had a somewhat amused look on his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said with a smile. 

Chloe shook her head. "No problem, I just didn't hear you come in. Is there something I can help you with?"

In response, the man approached, crossing the room at a leisurely pace. Chloe stood as he arrived at her desk and offered his hand. "I'm Matthew Ryder, Miss Sullivan, but you can call me Matt."

Chloe shook his hand hesitantly; the use of her name had caught her off guard. "Ok. Matt. What can I do for you?"

Matt turned and began looking around the room, clearly ignoring her question. "So I guess this is where all those with dreams of becoming a big time reporter start out."

"Something like that," Chloe responded slowly, eyeing him closely.

Matt continued to look around the room for another minute as if he were studying every detail closely. Chloe was content to let him do so, figuring he would make his point in his own time. Finally, Matt looked in her direction and smiled. "I apologize. I am a…" he stopped, as if catching himself. "Never mind. It's complicated and a topic for another day." He grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and sat down opposite of where Chloe was still standing. He motioned for her to take a seat, which she did.

"Are we ready now?" she said, with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm.

Matt just stared at her with a serious look. Chloe mentally added "Lack of sense of humor" to the short list of things she knew about him.

"Your friend, Clark Kent, he's not having much luck. Is he?" Matt said, his face betraying no emotion.

"Excuse me?" Chloe said starting to feel herself go on the defensive. A million questions began going through her head as she said it.

"He's wasting his time, you know."

"I'm sorry I don't know what you mean," Chloe said, keeping her face expressionless. She was afraid of where the conversation was going but felt like she needed to get more information from him. It could possible help Clark, but either way she had no intention of admitting anything was unusual concerning Clark.

Matt cracked a smile at her response. "Amazing, it's only been four months and I see he's got you covering for him. I'm glad. It'll make your job easier."

"And what exactly is that?" Chloe snapped.

"Motivate him to move on," Matt said, growing serious again. "He will never find his way home. He's not here to find his way home."

"And just what, in this delusional world you've got going on, is he here for." It was hard, but Chloe felt she managed to keep her poker face going.

Matt stood slowly. "I want him to prepare himself."

Chloe stood up and matched his gaze. "For what?"

Matt leaned forward, pressing his fists into the desk. "When the time comes, I would like him to present some sort of challenge. I'd hate to think I invested so much time into someone who will end up to be just a pushover."

"Why are you so interested in Clark? What kind of sick game do you think you're playing?"

"Do you believe in life on other planets, Miss Sullivan?"

Chloe hadn't expected that. "What?... What are you talking about?"

Matt's face remained serious as he stood up straight again. "I know Clark does," he said.

Chloe just stared at him trying to decide just exactly how crazy he was. He didn't wait for her to decide. "I'll see you around, Miss Sullivan," he said and began to walk to the door. As he reached it he stopped and looked back at Chloe. "I want to make sure there are no mistakes in the message, Miss Sullivan. I want him to take it serious. Tell Clark, that your life depends on him being ready." He turned and pushed through the double doors and disappeared down the hall.

After a few seconds Chloe recovered from the shock of the threat. Then she picked up the phone to call Clark.


	9. Chapter 8

"I'll see you when you get home," said Clark.

"Bye," responded Chloe.

Clark waited for the other line to go dead before hanging up the phone himself. Immediately he went back to staring at the computer screen in front of him. It was a nightly ritual. It had become his obsession. Unlocking the mystery of how he got to where he was. Was he in an altered timeline or another universe altogether. At this point there was no way for him to tell. He was stuck because he wasn't sure modern science could tell him what he needed to know.

Clark knew he was far smarter than the average person, far above what would be considered a genius. He could solve complex mathematical equations in his head. He had a photographic memory which allowed him to memorize entire books in one or two readings. Coupled with the ability to read a book in only a few seconds, he had never had to study in his life. However, Clark knew his genius had its limitations.

There are different types of genius. Men like Picasso and Mozart could be considered geniuses in their field. Clark knew that he could easily read a book on learning how to play the piano and then be able to sit down and play one of Mozart's symphonies. What he would never be able to do is sit down and write a symphony on his own. The same was with painting. His perfect hand eye coordination gave him the ability draw something exactly but he would never be able to create something that could compare to a Picasso. Clark was held back because he didn't have the tools to help himself and he couldn't invent them himself. His mind just didn't work that way which is why he needed help. It was for that reason that he'd been visiting with anyone who would even talk to him about the subjects of time travel or worm holes or whatever their expertise happened to be.

He generally posed as a reporter for whatever local college might be nearby, but some it wasn't even necessary to come up with a cover story. Many were just happy to show off their latest research to whoever would listen. Clark knew he couldn't tell them the truth for fear that they would just consider him a nut case. Often he would just pretend that he was asking an off the wall question on the subject of alternate universe and such. Few could do more than chuckle at his "joke" and those that could were only able to make the most general of speculations. 

It was a losing battle but even though he knew he was in a losing battle, he continued to fight it; he refused to give up. In part because he knew he didn't belong and because he didn't know what else to do.

Chloe had been invaluable. She helped find the locations of and arrange meetings with many of the various people he'd been talking to the past few months. She had provided him with a place to stay and had bought him some clothes. He made every attempt to not be a burden but he knew that without any money of his own, he was, no matter how small.

The phone rang, snapping Clark out of his thoughts. Glancing at the Caller ID he recognized the number of Chloe's desk at the Planet. He quickly picked it up. "What's up?" he asked.

Chloe's voice sounded agitated as she began to talk. "Clark I need you to come to the Planet rrrriii-" He didn't let her finish.

At super speed he set the phone on the hook and moved toward the balcony. He was careful not to break the balcony door as he opened and closed it. Increasing his speed he leaped from the balcony, over the adjacent building and onto the roof of the second building over. A second jump took him over a block away where he landed at street level and continued. Even at that hour of night certain parts of Metropolis were bustling and Clark found himself weaving and dodging people who appeared to be frozen as he passed by. He arrived at the Planet in just a few moments by his perception.

"iiight now," Chloe finished as Clark appeared a couple of feet away. He instantly regretted appearing so close as she gasped and almost jumped five feet at his sudden appearance.

"Clark, I've told you a dozen time not to do that," said Chloe, now even more upset. The anger was a façade as he quickly found Chloe in his arms.

"What happened? Are you ok?" he asked, still holding her in his arms. 

Finally she pulled away and responded,  
"Sort of… Not really. I just had an odd visit from someone that seemed to know about you. Do you recognize the name Matthew Ryder?"

Clark shook his head.

"Well someone claiming to go by that name was just here. He threatened me and somehow he knows about your research and about you not exactly being from around here."

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Chloe shook her head bringing some relief to Clark. "Wait, he was just here?" Clark said suddenly looking around and then at the floor.

"Yea, he left a few seconds before I called you." Chloe watched Clark in puzzlement as he headed for the door and started jogging down the hall. Unsure of what he was doing, she followed. He didn't go far before he stopped and started looking around again.

"I'm picking up his foot prints with my infra-vision but they just stop here," he said pointing at the floor in the middle of the hallway.

"What do you think could cause that?"

"A couple different things, like when I run at super speed I don't leave a heat trail. I also used to know a girl that could teleport so that's another explanation. I can't see anyone unusual around the building. It's just cleaning people and security guards." Turning his attention back to Chloe he asked, "What did he say to you?"

"He just came in and sat down and started talking about you. Talking about how you're wasting your time and you won't be able to find your way home." As she talked she motioned for him to follow her back to her desk.

Falling into step beside her as she walked, Clark asked, "Anything else?"

"Yea, he said that he wanted me to motivate you to move on. He wanted you to present some sort of challenge to him in the future. Then he said my life depended on it."

Clark felt himself growing even angrier than he already was. "Did he say why?"

"Not really. I mean I asked him but his answer didn't make any sense," said Chloe. Clark reached the door to the newsroom first and pushed it open for her. She brushed passed him walked over to her desk.

"What was it?" asked Clark.

"He just asked if I believed in life on other planets and then he said he knew you did."

Clark froze as he was pulling up a chair next to Chloe's desk. He tried to keep his face from showing his shock but Chloe seemed to catch it.

"What is it Clark?"

"Nothing…"

"Clark, I may not know you well enough to know your different looks, but that is not a nothing look. What's wrong?"

Clark looked at her, contemplating whether he should finally tell her about his origins. Figuring that his Chloe handled it well, he made snap decision. She knew everything else so there was really any reason to hide this.

"You'd better sit down," he said, taking a seat himself. When she had sat down he looked her directly in the eye and dropped the bombshell. "Chloe, I'm from another planet."

Chloe's jaw dropped. "Wha… What? Like Mars, another planet?"

"Yes, but not Mars. I'm from-"

"So, you're not from some other universe or wherever you're supposed to be from?" Chloe asked, cutting him off. Anger was apparently replacing shock.

"No. I am. You see-"

Chloe cut him off again. "Which is it? Another planet or another universe?"

"Ok, please stop interrupting. Ok." Clark said and waited for her to nod her head before continuing. "Both. I'm from another planet in another universe or timeline or wherever the heck I'm from."

"Why didn't you tell me before? You told me about everything else. You did tell me about everything else, right?" asked Chloe, her voice demanding.

"There's nothing else, at least nothing of any importance like this. I just thought it might be too much to spring on you all at once. I figured with everything else I told you that might really push me into the lunatic zone in your eyes."

Chloe sighed. "You're probably right."

"So you're ok with this?" Clark asked cautiously.

She took a deep breath, breathing it out slowly. "Surprisingly, I'm not as freaked out as I should be. I guess, given all the other weird stuff you can do, this is just one more thing." She sighed again. "So, I guess it's safe to assume that this Matt guy knows you're an alien too."

"I guess we should assume so."

"So what's our next move?"

"I don't know, but I can't stop looking for a way home. I just can't."

Chloe shook her head. "No, I don't think you should. We're just going to have to be more subtle about it. Cut the traipsing about the world to a minimum. And we're going to have to do something about our current living arrangement. I mean, you can't sleep on my couch forever."

Clark nodded. "What are you proposing we do? I have no way to get a job. I'm not in any system anywhere. Officially, I don't exist."

Chloe smiled. "Luckily, I've been thinking about that recently and I think I've come up with something that might work."

Clark waited for her to continue but when it looked like she had no intention to he asked, "Care to fill me in?"

Chloe shook her head. "I haven't worked everything out completely yet. I'll tell you when I have." Clark was about protest when Chloe changed the subject. "Why don't you go home and we'll talk more when I get there. I should be ok now."

Clark nodded and stood. "You sure?"

"I'm sure Clark. Thanks for coming so fast, even if you did scare the bejezzus out of me. Now go."

"You're not going to tell me what planning?"

"Not tell I have everything worked out. Don't worry, everything will be fine," Chloe said with a smile. Clark wasn't sure if it should comfort him or not.


	10. Chapter 9

Clark walked out the front doors of the Daily Planet. He decided to walk the two miles back to Chloe's apartment rather than take it at full speed. He needed time to think. He had no idea who Matthew Ryder was and he certainly didn't know how this guy knew about him. The truck accident and the explosion afterwards was just a freak accident, hadn't it?

Then there was also the issue of this Ryder guy threatening Chloe. Clark was normally able to keep himself pretty even tempered. He had to because if he ever lost his temper and did something without thinking… Well someone could get seriously hurt. But when Clark thought about someone trying to hurt Chloe, it strained him to keep it in control.

After walking several blocks Clark managed to calm himself down a bit. His anger wouldn't help him find out who Matthew Ryder or what he wanted. First thing he would do when he got back to the apartment is try to find out any information about him. For some reason he doubted he would find anything but he had to start somewhere.

His thoughts drifted to home. He missed his mom and dad terribly. He could only imagine how worried his mom must be. And Chloe, his Chloe. It was weird to miss someone and yet see them everyday. In almost every way the two were a like but there were small differences. Almost six years of friendship for one. There were a lot of memories there that he didn't share with this new Chloe; six years of inside jokes that he occasionally forgot that she wouldn't know. Yet in spite of the differences he trusted her every bit as much as he did his Chloe. And everything that had changed around him it was her that kept him from sinking into depression. She encouraged him when he needed. She filled the space of best friend as if his Chloe had come with him.

Best friend. Recently, only in passing, he had started to find himself looking at her differently than he had before. Looking at her in ways you just don't look at your best friend. He had always thought Chloe was attractive, he just didn't think about it much. Now he was starting to find himself uncomfortably aware of that fact. Why did he find himself secretly checking her out, if only for a split second?

He had to stop it, he had to resist. He wasn't sure how long he would be around. There was also the fact that he had messed things up with Lana so much. He shook his head. He needed to stop that train of thought as well. He had wasted the better part of two years second guessing himself after the first time they broke up. The only difference between then and their second go around was that they had drug it out longer the second time around. Nothing had changed though. He still kept his secrets from her and she still obsessed about them. He wasn't going to spend the next two years constantly wondering if he had been wrong again.

He was passing by a local dance club when he suddenly heard the sound of gun shots coming from several blocks away. The people in line outside the club began murmuring about the sound. Several began reaching for cell phones with the obvious intention of calling the police. With so many people around Clark couldn't take off at full speed so he started running for a nearby alley at a well above average pace. Once out of sight of the crowd he was able to increase the pace. Clark felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he knew precious time had been lost.

In an instant he arrived at the location from where he heard the gun shots. It was another alley several streets over. There were two men there, one laying the ground in a quickly expanding pool of blood and the other stood over him with a pistol pointed at him. Clark ran into the alley just as the gunman pulled the trigger once more. Clark didn't hesitate as he ran forward and caught the bullet then snatched the gun from the gunman and crushed it before tossing it aside. With one hand, he picked up the gunman and threw him into the nearby wall, knocking him out cold.

Clark turned his attention to wounded man lying on the ground. He was young, probably not much older than Clark. His breathing was erratic and using his super-hearing Clark could tell his pulse was weakening quickly as well. Clark knew he needed to get him to a hospital immediately.

As Clark was bending over to pick the man up he heard a door creak open behind him and a person, a man by the sound of his breathing, stepped into the alley. Without turning, he said to the newcomer, "Call the police. He's been shot." Clark hoped that the person didn't have a cell phone, right now he just wanted the man to go away so he could run the wounded man to the hospital.

"How in the world were you able to do that?" said the person behind him. Clark froze. It had been several years, but he was sure he recognized the voice. Clark turned and looked behind him. At the sight of the man standing at the door that opened into the alley, Clark's heart dropped. He was right.

"Nixon!" snarled Clark. Then he noticed the video camera in the man's hand.

"Do I know you?" Roger Nixon asked as he walked closer. He continued to keep the camera on Clark but would sweep it over to the wounded man every now and then.

Clark shook his head. "We need to get him some help," he said.

Nixon seemed to ignore him. "I've seen a lot of things in my life kid, but that was amazing. You threw him like fifteen feet," said Nixon. He slowly panned the camera over to where the gunman lay. Then he panned over to the gun lying on the ground. "You crushed it! With you bare hands!" he asked, incredulously.

"Call 911. Now," said Clark getting angry. "He doesn't have time for this Nixon."

Nixon panned the camera back to Clark. "How strong are you? How'd you come be so strong?" Clark just stared at him unable to believe what was happening. "Come on, kid, give me something…"

Frustrated beyond belief he shot out his hand and tapped Nixon on the head, knocking him out cold. Then in one fluid motion Clark's snatched up the falling camera and crushed it before tossing it aside. He then turned his attention to the wounded man. Clark bent over and picked him and then as carefully as he could he took off towards the hospital.

Metropolis General was a mere twelve blocks away, a short sprint for Clark. He allowed himself several seconds to make the run, not wanting to jolt the man anymore than he had to. He slowed down outside the doors to the emergency room. With his right foot he kicked the panel that activated automatic doors causing them to swing open. Hurriedly, he entered and proclaimed to the woman behind the admitting desk, "He's been shot!"

His statement sent about half dozen people into action. A nurse called for the doctor as she ran over and began checking the man over. Moments later two orderlies arrived with a gurney and Clark gently laid the man down. By that time the doctor had arrived and began checking the man over as the gurney was maneuvered away from Clark and out soon out of sight.

Clark figured that was his queue to leave but as he turned to do so the woman working the admitting desk called out to him. "Sir, you're going to have to stay here until you have a chance to give your statement to the police."

Clark turned and looked woman, shaking his head. "I don't know anything. I was just trying to help. I have to go."

"Sir, it's the law. You have to wait for the police to give a statement." Seeing Clark begin to take a step backwards, toward the door, she said, "Sir, don't make me call security."

Clark turned and walked out the door at a brisk pace causing the women start yelling for security. The security guard had been nearby past the admitting desk, through the doors and outside. He was too slow as Clark was on the roof of the building across the street the instant he was out of sight of the people inside the emergency room. This left a very puzzled security guard standing outside looking around for any sight of Clark.

Realizing that he should make sure the police are called to arrest the gunman and figuring that he shouldn't rely on Nixon to do it, Clark ran to find a payphone. A few blocks away he found one and he picked up the receiver and dialed 911. His statement to the operator was brief, just the address, the description of the gunman and what he had seen. He told the operator to have the cops hurry because he wasn't sure how long the gunman would be unconscious and then he hung up the phone.

Clark ran back to the hospital and found a place to hide on one of the roof tops nearby. He kept his hearing tuned into the events of the emergency room. His shirt and hands were covered in drying blood but he wanted to make sure the man was ok before he left. He just needed the assurance that he had moved fast enough.

It took several hours but the man was finally stabilized and operated on to remove the bullets. He was in bad shape but his condition was stable when Clark decided it was time for him to head home.

* * *

Roger Nixon awoke to the fetid smell of trash as he found himself lying face down in the alley. His head was hurting in a bad way and he felt like it would take a half dozen Tylenol to ease the pain. He slowly pushed himself and moved into a sitting position. He shook his head to clear the fog, though it didn't help much. With some effort he stood with only a little support from a nearby dumpster. That kid sure packs a punch, he thought to himself.

The gunman was still lying against the nearby wall, still out cold. The camera, Nixon thought to himself. He glanced around and spotted it, or at least the crushed remains of it, not far from the pool of blood where his informant had been shot.

What had supposed to have been a simple meeting with someone willing to speak off the record about corruption within the police department had turned out to be not so simple. Nixon had arrived at the alley first and had hidden in the shadows of the doorway waiting. He had brought his camcorder to get the informant's statement on tape.

He had spotted his informant approaching and had just about to step out of the shadows when someone else had arrived calling the informant by name. Not one to risk himself, Nixon had tried the door and found that it was unlocked. Then, through the grimy window facing the alley he had captured the rest of the events on video. He had gotten everything: the shooting, the almost execution and then the miraculous save from the amazing young man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Now his stomach was in knots has he looked at his ruined camera. He walked over to pick it up, daring to hope. Most of it was indeed crushed, but as he examined the back of the camera where the memory card was stored his spirits began to rise. He carefully withdrew the very much intact and undamaged memory card from the camera.

The sound of police cars caught his ears. Knowing that he would very likely have to hand over the video if they found out he had it, Nixon decided that he should leave. He had no problem giving it to the cops eventually but not until he used it for his own purposes.

Tucking the card in his pocket he ran down the alley in the opposite direction of the approaching sirens. As he exited the alley and disappeared into the night he couldn't help thinking that he may have just stumbled upon the biggest story of his career.

* * *

Clark Kent was an alien. Clark Kent was an alien. Clark Kent was an alien. No matter how many times the words ran through her head, Chloe wasn't sure how long it would take to get used to it. She felt she had done a pretty good job at acting like she wasn't freaking out when he told her but in fact she did freak out a bit. She was pretty sure that he had bought her little façade. At the time the only thing she could do was get him to leave so that she could have time to let it sink in. Only you would get threatened by some mystery man and find out the man sleeping on your couch was an alien in the same night, she thought to herself.

In a way she was a little relieved to find the apartment empty when she arrived home. It gave her a chance to unwind and mull over her thoughts. She was going to make every attempt to not to appear nervous around him even though just the thought of him near made her so. For some reason she decided to stay up, to wait for him to return. As nervous as she felt to be in his presence again, it soon began to be replaced by concern. She wasn't sure why she was concerned, if anyone could take care of himself it was Clark. One hour turned to two and still she waited with no Clark.

She wasn't sure when but she must have drifted off to sleep because she was jolted awake at the sound of the door to the apartment opening. She glanced at the clock; it was a little past three in the morning. "Clark," she called out, "where have you been?" Then she saw him, his hand and shirt covered in blood with his eyes filled with sorrow. "Wh.. What happened?" she stammered.

Clark shook his head. "I was heading home and I heard gun shots. I ran to see what was happening and ending up stopping some guy from killing someone. I ran the guy that got shot to the hospital and I've been waiting around there to make sure he pulled through."

Chloe brought her hand to her mouth. "Is he ok?"

"He's in critical condition but he's stabilized," replied Clark. He glanced down at his hands and shirt. "I probably better get cleaned up."

Clark began walking to the bathroom and removed the blood stained shirt. Chloe took it from him and went to throw it in the trash.

"You know you didn't need to wait up," Clark called out to her from the bathroom as he turned on the water to the sink.

"I know but I wanted too," she said in a normal tone, confident he would hear her well enough no matter how loud she spoke.

A few minutes later the water turned off and Clark disappeared into the spare bedroom and quickly returned wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms and carrying the pillow and blanket he used for the couch. Although he continued to sleep on the couch, even though she had a bed in the second bedroom, he had at least conceded to hanging his clothes in the closet of the second bedroom. He resisted any attempts by Chloe to move him off the couch saying that he was only there temporarily and sleeping in the spare bedroom would make him feel like he had moved in permanently.

Seeing the serious look he still carried Chloe asked, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yea, I'm fine. I'm just glad that guy didn't die. I'm not sure what I would have done if I wasn't fast enough."

"It wouldn't have been your fault if you hadn't been, you know. You didn't shoot him."

"I know," said Clark softly. He spread the blanket across the couch before turning back to her. "There's something else. There was this reporter there, at the shooting. Roger Nixon, he works at the Inquisitor. Well, at least I think he does. He did when I knew him."

Chloe's eyes widened. She'd heard of Roger Nixon. "Roger Nixon is the type of reporter that gives reporters a bad name. He's slime… Wait, he was at the shooting?"

Clark nodded, his face very serious and filled with worry.

"He didn't see…" She didn't finish her sentence because the look on Clark's face told the story.

"He had a video camera… He saw me throw the gunman against the wall and crush the gun in my hands. He probably saw me appear from super speed."

"Tell me you didn't let him keep the camera."

"No, of course not. I knocked him out and crushed it."

Chloe felt a bit of relief, but not much. "He still got a good look at you though?"

Clark nodded. "What do you think we should do?" he asked.

"I don't know. We probably need to wait and see if he does anything. He may write a story about it but most of the media doesn't take the Inquisitor too seriously, let alone Roger Nixon. With no proof we should be ok."

Clark looked relieved and let out a sigh. "Yeah and it's not like he knows who I am."

"Exactly," she said with smile to reassure him. She found herself staring into his eyes for a moment. He returned her gaze at first but then looked away. For a moment she thought he was blushing.

"It's late," he said, looking a bit uncomfortable, although Chloe was unsure why.

"Yeah, I should head for bed."

Clark nodded. "Goodnight," he said as he lay down on the couch.

"Goodnight," she replied. She turned off the light for him and walked into her room.

As she lay in bed thinking about Clark it occurred to her that she hadn't felt nervous around him at all. The way he was so concerned for someone he had never met really touched her. He was so caring that she couldn't help feeling safe around him. One thought was stuck in her head as she drifted off into pleasant dreams. Alien or no, she was falling for him.


	11. Chapter 10

_Next Day_

Sunlight seeped through the blinds in Chloe's bedroom illuminating it just enough to slowly bring her to consciousness. Slowly she rolled over and looked at the clock. She groaned. She'd gotten only about four hours of sleep. She rolled back over and attempted to go back to sleep, back to pleasant dreams spent with a certain dark haired individual. Yet after tossing and turning for about a half hour she gave up the fight and got out of bed.

She slowly opened the door to her room, being careful not to make too much noise as she didn't want to wake Clark. Moving around her apartment quietly would be hard enough, but Clark's super hearing made things especially difficult. She needn't have bothered as she became acutely aware of the aroma of coffee once the door was opened. Breathing it in deeply she walked into the kitchen to find Clark filling one of two cups on the counter. He smiled when he saw her.

"Morning," he said as he handed the filled cup too her. "I heard you tossing around in your bed so I figured you'd be getting up soon."

"Thanks," she said as she accepted the cup and took a sip. Then with an amused look she said, "I'm glad I'm so interesting to listen to."

Clark chuckled. "When you have ears like mine it's sometimes hard not to hear things."

"Whatever excuse you want to give…" Chloe said while looking at him with a large smile. Clark's smile matched hers as they stood in silence looking at each other. Moments like those were becoming more frequent and it couldn't please Chloe more. However, it ended quickly as it always did, with Clark blushing slightly and turning away. Chloe was never sure whether she should consider it a victory or a loss when he did that.

With a small sigh, she took her cup with her and sat on the couch. She picked up the television remote from the end table that sat nearby. Hopefully she could catch a little bit of the morning news before she had to get ready for class. The first channel that came on when she pressed the power button immediately caught her attention. The words "OFF DUTY OFFICER SHOT LATE LAST NIGHT" were displayed below the picture of a man in police uniform.

"An off duty Metropolis police officer was shot late last night in a brutal attack that has left him in critical condition," said the perky blonde anchorwoman who seemed way too happy about the subject matter that she was reporting.

"Clark, get in here. I think you'll want to see this," said Chloe. Clark quickly stepped into the room as the anchor woman continued talking.

"Officer Dan Jackson, pictured in the upper right corner of your screen, is a rookie cop who has only been on the force a few months. He was supposed to be meeting with Metropolis Inquisitor reporter Roger Nixon about alleged actions by fellow members of the police department. Unfortunately, before the meeting could take place Officer Jackson was shot several times, allegedly by fellow officer Frank Reid."

The camera panned out to show a man that Chloe recognized as Roger Nixon seated nearby. Nixon clearly looked haggard as though he had been up all night. Chloe had no doubt that probably had. She glanced over to Clark and saw him noticeably tense up.

"In studio today, we have reporter Roger Nixon, who was at the scene during the brutal attack. Welcome, Roger."

Nixon nodded and with a smile said, "Glad to be here."

"Roger, what can you tell us about last night's events?"

"Officer Jackson had contacted me about a week ago with information about fellow officers allegedly taking bribes as well as a slew of other criminal activities. We had agreed to meet downtown after his shift. Unfortunately, before the meeting could take place he was shot several times."

"How terrible," the anchor woman said, the fake emotion evident in her voice. "Now I'm told that you managed to capture the entire attack on video."

"That's correct, but the truly amazing events happened after the shooting. As you'll see in the video, Officer Jackson's life is spared only through the intervention of an unknown individual. You'll have to watch the video to understand why it was so amazing."

"Now remember," the anchor woman said while looking straight at the camera, "We at Channel 6 have received exclusive rights to Mr. Nixon's video, so you'll only see it here."

The screen immediately cut over to an obvious camcorder image of the alley, looking through a window into an alley. Two men could be seen arguing, though there appeared to be no sound. One of the men, Chloe could just barely make out as the man pictured earlier as Officer Jackson.

Nixon began to act as the narrator. "As you can see, Officer Jackson is clearly arguing with a man that has been identified as Detective Frank Reid. A few months ago, Frank Reid and his partner Sam Phelan had come under investigation for bribery and extortion allegations. An internal investigation failed to turn up anything and the only witness at the time reversed his story."

In the video, Chloe watched as the man identified as Frank Reid suddenly pulled a gun and fired several times at Jackson. Jackson fell to the ground and Reid stood over him with the gun still aimed at him. Reid seemed to be talking to Jackson.

"Now watch as our mysterious individual arrives. What you're seeing has not been edited in any way," Nixon said.

A lot happened in the next couple seconds. Clark seemed to just pop in on the screen with his hand appearing between the gun and Officer Jackson. He then reached out and took the gun from Reid. Reid was then seen being lifted into the air and seemingly tossed off camera. The camera quickly panned over just in time to see Reid falling to the ground. The camera quickly panned back over to Clark who had bent down to examine the wounded Jackson.

The screen cut back to the anchor woman and Nixon. "Wow, that was amazing," the airhead anchor woman said. "He seemed to appear out of nowhere and through that guy like fifteen feet." Chloe rolled her eyes. There was nothing like TV media who insisted on explaining what any moron could see for themselves. The anchorwoman continued, "Now do we know who this person is?"

"No, we don't, but I believe that its important that we find out." He looked directly into the camera, his face very serious. "You've seen the video. It's very real. We need to find the identity of this individual. We need to know what exactly he's capable and how he got that way. The public has a right to know. As such, the Inquisitor is offering $50,000 for an exclusive interview with him or $10,000 to the person that provides us with the necessary information to locate and identify him." As he was talking a still of Clark was flashed on screen. It was grainy and dark but it was definitely recognizable.

"Now, Mr. Nixon, what would you say to those individuals that might claim that the video was faked and that this is just a publicity stunt for the Inquisitor?"

"I would point out that Officer Dan Jackson is in the hospital now, as we speak. He's in critical condition but he is still alive today because of the actions of this individual. Also, the fact that Detective Frank Reid was reported to be found unconscious at the scene is further evidence. But the public has seen the video. They can decide for themselves." Nixon gave a large smile as he finished. It struck Chloe as one that she might encounter a used car salesman wearing. It made her skin crawl.

Clark walked over to the TV and turned it off. Chloe was about to protest until she saw his face. He was in total shock, just shaking his head. She stood up and walked over to put her arm around him.

"What am I going to do Chloe? If he's serious about that reward, then half the city is going to be looking for me. I won't even be able to go outside."

"We'll figure something out Clark," she said consolingly.

"Chloe, my face is all over the news. What can we possibly do about that?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"We'll think of something, Clark. We'll think of something…" For the life of her, Chloe could think of what they would do either.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Chloe weaved her car from lane to lane in the Metropolis traffic, which was relatively light at the moment, in an effort to get home a little sooner. She had left for class about an hour after she and Clark had seen the first news report that morning. Thinking back, she probably should have stayed home as she had been unable to concentrate the entire class.

Spotting a news stand, she decided to stop quickly and pick up a copy of the Daily Planet. Normally she'd just pick up a copy at work but she it was her day off. Checking over her right shoulder to make sure it was clear, she gunned the engine and zipped across two lanes of traffic. She double parked behind another car doing the same, confident that she'd only be there a moment so there shouldn't be a need to worry about any traffic cops. She jumped out and walked the short distance to the news stand.

She wasn't surprised to see a still shot of Clark on the cover of the Inquisitor. She had no doubt Nixon would have his face plastered there. She briefly wondered when they could expect to see the billboards. Knock on wood, she thought to herself. She hated doing it but she picked up a copy of the Inquisitor along with the copy of the Daily Planet that she'd stopped for. She didn't like the idea of her money supporting the Inquisitor or Nixon but she thought it best to know as much as she could about what Nixon knew or thought he knew.

There was a person in line in front of her so she took a few moments to glance at the various covers and headlines. _8 Simple Ways to Get Your Dream Guy_ was in bold type on the cover of one of the fashion magazines. Chloe chuckled, thinking she could probably use some advice like that.

The person in front of her finished and she stepped forward and held up the two news papers. Glancing quickly to the magazines, she grabbed the fashion magazine and added it to her stack. It can't hurt, she thought.

The man running the news stand rang up the items on a small cash register and gave her the total. As she fished through her purse for the cash, the man began making chitchat. "Big news, eh? The Inquisitor," he said pointing to the picture of Clark.

"I guess," Chloe said, seemingly uninterested. She found the money and began counting out several bills.

"You don't think so," the man asked.

Chloe shook her head as she handed him the money. "It's just an absurd stunt by the Inquisitor. I don't buy it. I honestly think the Inquisitor doesn't belong to be placed next to the Planet." She glanced over to where a couple of the tabloids were placed and read the titles. Turning back to the man she said, "You aught to put this issue between that tabloid with _Psychic Predicts End of the World_ and the one with _Aliens Forces Set to Invade Earth: Advanced Scouts Placed in Every City_. It would be more appropriate."

The man handed her some change with a laugh. "It's not stopping you from buying a copy."

"Everyone needs a little entertainment," she said with a smile.

The man roared with laughter. "Have a good day, Miss."

"You too," she said as she turned and hurried back to her car. She hopped in, tossed the papers and magazine over to the passenger seat and snatched her keys from her purse. She started the car and gave a glance over her left shoulder before she zipped back out into traffic. Three seconds later she was stopped by a red light. She sighed.

She glanced over at the Inquisitor, to Clark's picture. She still had no idea what they were going to do. Hopefully, it would just die down after a couple of weeks. News didn't age well and was quickly forgotten, especially when the topic brought quite a bit of skepticism from the average person. But then, what if Nixon wouldn't let the issue go? No, she and Clark had better come up with something.

She glanced back at the traffic light. It seemed to be stuck on red. She tapped on the steering wheel impatiently. Letting out another sigh she reached over and picked up the magazine she had purchased. The page number for the article she wanted was listed on the cover so she decided to take a quick peek. She flipped a couple of pages before something else on the cover had registered with her. She flipped back and read it again. _Fashion Makeover: Your Friends Won't Recognize You!"_. Something clicked in Chloe's head. She found herself just staring at the cover for so long that the next thing she knew she heard the sound of honking behind her.

Swearing she threw the magazine back over to the passenger seat and pressed the accelerator. Being careful to watch the road she kept stealing glances at the magazine, her mind already whirling with ideas. She briefly told herself that there was no way something like that would work; it was just stupid. Then she realized, she and Clark really didn't have any other ideas or options.

It had to work. They would make it work.

* * *

"This is stupid Chloe. There's no way its going to work," Clark said as he stared into the bathroom mirror, observing Chloe's handiwork. His normally somewhat-wild hair was now perfectly combed with a part to one side. He was dressed in a button down shirt and sweater, both of which were slightly oversized. To hide his muscular frame, Chloe had said. To top it all off, Chloe had produced a thick pair of glasses that she insisted he try on. He looked like a nerd and said as much.

"Well, I'm still waiting for your alternate plan, Clark," she said eyeing him closely. She reached out and straightened the collar of his shirt a bit. "There. Not bad, you really do look different."

"Different enough to fool anyone? Come on Chloe," said Clark.

"No, I think it will work. I mean, the pictures and video are recognizable, but they aren't that great of quality. Not to mention, no one really knows you. The glasses alone should be enough to fool most people."

"And what if they're not?"

"Well, I was thinking about that too when I was on my way home. So besides the new clothes from the thrift shop, I made another stop. Hold on," she said as she turned and left the bathroom.

Clark didn't move, just continued to stare into the mirror. A few moments later, Chloe returned with a book in hand. She held it out for him.

Taking it from her, he looked at the title. _Sanford Meisner on Acting_, it read. "An acting book?" he asked suspiciously.

Chloe nodded. "The way I figure it, in order to pull this off for very long you're really going to have to sell that new look of yours."

"But Chlo–"

"No buts. I'm serious, Clark. Look, we agreed earlier that we were going to do what that Matt guy said and at least make it appear like you're settling into a life here. In order to do that you'll have to leave the apartment for other things than just for research. That means you'll going be meeting people that will probably have seen you're picture in the papers. You're going to have to fool them, especially if Nixon decides not to let this go."

Clark nodded. "I still don't know. I'm just not convinced," he said looking at the book in his hands.

Chloe's voice softened. "Look Clark. I've seen you do things that I had always thought were impossible. This is just one more thing. Make it work Clark. If there is anyone that can, it's you."

He looked at her in the eyes for several seconds and then nodded. "I'll give it a try."

Chloe shook her head and her voice grew a bit sterner. "No Clark. You can't just give this the good ol' college try. You have to become someone else. Someone who could never, in a million years, have been in that alley. Someone who would never be suspected of being able to lift a Mack truck. People have to look at you in such a way that if, for some reason, they saw a resemblance, they would immediately call themselves crazy for having such an overactive imagination. Anything less and you'll blow it."

Clark listened to Chloe finish and nodded. "Ok," he said, although a little unsure. He let her words sink in and said, "OK," again; this time with more confidence. He looked into the mirror at himself, staring for about a minute. Chloe was right. He knew she was. They really didn't have any other options and this was his best shot at avoiding Nixon and anyone who might be looking from him. "OK," he said one last time, determined to make it work.

Chloe smiled at him. "Well if that's settled, I guess we just need to worry about getting you a job or into school, or both."

Clark nodded. "You said you had an idea about how to do that?"

Her smile grew a little larger as she turned and started to leave the bathroom. As she walked she turned her head slightly and said, "Yea, I just need to call a friend who might be able to help us out."

Clark followed her as she walked over to the phone picked it up. She quickly dialed and gave him a quick wink as the phone was ringing. After a few rings, Clark could hear the phone click as someone picked up and then he heard someone say "Hello?" Clark recognized the voice.

The smile on her face grew even larger, if it was possible. "Hey Pete," she said.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Clark heard Pete say.

"I need a favor…"


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**  
_Three weeks later_

For mile after mile Chloe drove in silence, not talking. Clark, sporting his new look, was seated in the passenger seat as he watched the many cornfields pass by. It was really Clark that wasn't willing to talk. He had been that way since that morning. It was bothersome, but she figured she'd give Clark some quiet time if he wanted it. She was learning when to give him time and when to press him. After what had happened earlier that morning, it was definitely the time for him to be left alone. At least for a bit; the drive to Wichita from Metropolis was a little over three hours and they still had two hours to go.

Chloe waited another thirty minutes before her patience wore out. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Chloe asked, "Are you ready to talk about it?"

Clark didn't stop looking out the window. He just responded in a quiet voice, "No."

"Listen Clark, I know you're a bit freaked out and maybe I should be a bit more freaked out myself but I'm not. I mean, I was at first, but I'm dealing with it. I'm just wondering why you're avoiding the issue."

Clark shook his head. "It's hard to explain. You probably wouldn't understand and I'm not really sure I understand myself. I… I just don't want to talk about it. OK?"

"If that's really what you want, I'll respect it. However, you're obviously upset about it and we will have to talk about it eventually. Now's as good a time as any."

When he didn't respond right away she sighed and began to replay the morning's events through her head for yet another time.

_Chloe looked at herself in the bathroom mirror one last time to ensure her hair and makeup looked just right. She wasn't a perfectionist when it came to her looks but she felt it was important to always be prepared to make a good impression._

_"Clark, I hope you're up," she called out. Clark was always unpredictable. Sometimes he was up hours before her and other times he'd still be sleeping when she would leave in the morning. Unfortunately, he'd chosen that morning, the day they were supposed to visit Pete in Wichita, to sleep in. Not that he couldn't get ready in moments, but maybe that was part of the problem. It irritated her that it would take her over an hour to get ready and he could be ready in literally ten seconds._

_Not hearing anything from the living room, Chloe started grumbling. She left the bathroom and stepped into her bedroom to grab her overnight bag. They would be staying at Pete's mom's house that night. Pete had wondered why she insisted on visiting him when he went home to visit his mom. He figured it would be easier to visit him at his dorm at Kansas State, as it was a bit closer. She'd insisted though, and had won out, of course. Pete knew better than to challenge her when she had her mind set on something. He eventually agreed and made the arrangements with his mom who was more than happy to see Chloe again. She and Chloe had always had a special relationship. Pete didn't have any sisters and since Chloe's mother had left when she was five, Chloe had often asked her for womanly advice. While Chloe was excited to see Pete again, but it was Pete's mom that everything they had been planning hinged on._

_Pete's mom was a federal judge, someone with enough power and connections to provide exactly the help Clark needed, if she could be convinced. Luckily, Chloe knew she could be quite persuasive when she needed to be._

_"Come on, Clark. We're supposed to be leaving in five minutes," she called out as she left the bed room. She slung her bag over her should and headed into the living room. As she rounded the corner she suddenly stopped short with a gasp. The bag dropped from her shoulder and fell with a thump to the floor. She felt herself go weak in the knees and barely managed to keep her balance. "Holy #$&," were the only words that managed to escape her lips. _

"It's just that…" Clark said, interrupting Chloe's thoughts. She waited patiently as he appeared to be searching for the right words. "What you saw this morning… Of all the things I can do or knew that I might be capable of, that has always scared me the most."

Chloe could understand why. It really had freaked her out at first too.

_Clark was soundly asleep with the blanket still draped over him. The problem for Chloe was that Clark also happened to be floating in the air, inches away from the ceiling. At first, she was so stunned at the sight that she could only watch as he slowly drifted back and forth across the living room ceiling._

_"Clark," she said. It took a few seconds after he didn't respond to realize she was whispering. "Clark!" she said louder._

_This time his eyes started to open slowly. A smile started to come to his sleepy face as their eyes met. It only lasted for a fraction of a second before Clark's eyes widened in surprise as if he suddenly realized where he was. He began to fall – straight towards the glass coffee table that was directly below him._

_Chloe instinctively cringed and turned away, expecting a thundering crash to happen next. It never came. As she was about to turn back towards Clark, she heard him speak._

_"Chloe, please move the coffee table." His voice was shaky, in fact he sounded petrified._

_Chloe turned back to see that Clark was still floating. This time he was about a foot above the coffee table. He was just looking at her and the look on his face confirmed that he was every bit as scared as his voice sounded. She nodded and quickly pulled the coffee table out from under him._

_Clark waved his arms a bit, in an apparent attempt to grab at the floor. It was just out of his reach. Chloe moved to help him, but he waved her back._

_"Stay back!" he said forcefully. She didn't argue._

_Clark brought his right leg down which did make contact with the floor. He shifted a bit so that his one foot was firmly planted and then he brought his left leg down. Once both feet were on the ground he stood for second hunched over before he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright. Chloe let out the breath that she hadn't known she was holding._

_"Clark," she said slowly. "What was that?"_

_Clark looked at her, the look of fear still present in his eyes. He shook his head. "I.. I don't know. I…" He stopped and shook his head again. "It was nothing. It was just a fluke. It won't happen again."_

_"Clark. That was hardly 'nothing.'"_

_"I don't want to talk about," he said sternly. He glanced over at the clock. "Weren't we supposed be leaving in a moment?" He didn't give her a chance to respond before he disappeared from the living room._

_Chloe heard the shower turn on and then turn back off a few seconds later. A few seconds after that, Clark reappeared fully dressed, his hair slicked down and with his new glasses on. "Let's go," he said._

_"Not so fast, Clark," Chloe said, feeling herself start to get upset at his avoidance game._

_Clark didn't let up though. "Chloe, I said I don't want to talk about it. Now, please. Let's just go."_

_He didn't wait for her to respond as he turned and left the apartment._

"So, this has happened before?" Chloe asked tentatively.

Clark shifted in his seat and adjusted the glasses that he wore, pushing them up from where they slid down his on nose. Finally, he nodded and gave a soft, "Yes."

Chloe nodded. "But, I take it that it hasn't happened often."

Clark shook his head. "No. That has only happened one other time. I woke up one morning a few feet above my bed. I ended up breaking it when I fell. I did fly another time when I was being mind controlled, but I don't remember much and what little I do is just jumbled." Seeing Chloe's surprise at the second part, he quickly added. "The mind control is a story for another day. It's a looonnng story."

Chloe chuckled. "Fair enough. You never really tried to fly on your own?"

"No. Like I said; the thought of being able to do that… It's scary."

"I can't say that I blame you. But this time was different though, wasn't it?"

"How so?"

"Well, you controlled it. I mean, you did stop yourself from falling."

"I guess. If you call that control and I'm not sure if I could do it again."

"Do you remember what you did that time?"

Clark shook his head. "It's stupid really. It happened so fast. I remember waking up and realizing where I was. I guess when I started to fall my perceptions kicked into super-speed. I remember thinking that I was going to break your coffee table and I wished I could stop myself. The next thing I knew I was just floating there."

Chloe giggled. "Only you would be thinking about keeping someone's property intact after you woke up, floating in mid air."

Clark chuckled too. "I know, it seems silly now, but that's what I remember thinking."

"So that's it? You don't remember anything else that you could have done?"

"No," Clark said shaking his head.

Chloe nodded. "Well, I'm wondering if we should have you try it again, while the experience is still fresh in your mind."

"Try to fly?" Clark asked. When Chloe nodded he started shaking his head, "I told you Chloe, it freaks me out. Trust me, flying is one power I can do without."

"I hate to break it to you but you can fly. Denial won't change that and avoiding it could get you into trouble if you can't control it. And think about this. What if you were in a situation where someone's life was at stake and the only way to save them was by flying? How would that make you feel?"

Clark sighed, obviously exasperated but appeared to thinking about what she said. After a few seconds he said, "Fine. You win. We'll practice when we get back to Metropolis tomorrow."

Chloe smiled as she felt pleased with herself. Sometimes getting Clark to do what you wanted him to do was a chore but she'd figured out that if she just appealed to the hero in him, he folded every time.

They drove on in silence for another few minutes before Chloe noticed a sign that said the entrance to one of Kansas' state parks was a few miles off the next exit. From the road she could see a large wooded area that stretched for miles. An idea popped into her head. When they reached the exit, she slowed the car and pulled off onto the exit.

"Where are we going?" Clark asked inquisitively.

"You'll see," she said.

Clark eyed her suspiciously but kept his mouth shut.

She pulled off the exit and drove a few miles before they entered the wooded area. About another mile down the road they arrived at the entrance for the state park. A small booth stood in the center of the entrance. Normally it would be manned by a park worker, but since it was the offseason, there was a lockbox and envelopes where one paid the park entrance fee. Apparently they went by the honor system that time of year. Chloe dutifully placed the specified three dollars in the envelope and placed it in the lock box.

"What are we doing, Chloe?" Clark asked.

"Finding someplace secluded," she answered.

"Why?"

"Because we aren't waiting for tomorrow. We're going to have you practice now."

"Chloe…" Clark groaned. She just chuckled in response.

She followed the road deeper into the park until they came to a picnic area. Nearby was a sign posted next to a trail signifying a nature walk. Even though they had not seen any other cars since entering the park, Chloe decided it would be safer if they moved into the woods. She parked the car and she and Clark got out.

Chloe said, "Check and see if any one is nearby, would yah?"

Clark lowered his glasses and looked around. He glanced back at Chloe and shook his head. Smiling, she took his hand and led him towards the trail. Chloe was glad she had opted not to wear anything with heels that day or it would have made walking through the woods more difficult. They walked for a couple hundred feet and stopped once she could no longer see the car.

"This will probably do," she said, looking up at him.

"I'm not sure if I want to do this," he said nervously. He was cute when he was nervous, even if his good looks were subdued a bit. The glasses, clothes and hairstyle toned down his normally striking good looks some though Chloe still thought him very handsome.

"Clark, we both know that you need to do this." Chloe said, smiling as she was still admiring him. They had tried to do more to alter his appearance, but there wasn't much else they could do. After much debating, Chloe had finally convinced him they should change the color. She had purchased the color treatment and had followed the instructions exactly when she applied it. Apparently alien hair was resistant to changes in color or at least Clark's was. His hair hadn't changed in the slightest. Facial hair probably wasn't a good idea because it was too distinguishing if Clark was ever spotted doing some heroic act again.

"Chloe, I never mentioned this before, but I'm a little scared of heights," he said sincerely.

Chloe couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You're afraid of heights?" When Clark nodded in response, Chloe asked, "Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I don't mean to make light of it, but you, scared of heights? I mean, no offense, but that's probably one of the silliest things I've ever heard."

"What do you mean?" Clark said defensively. "Lots of people are scared of heights."

"Clark, most people are afraid of falling and getting hurt or dying. You're invulnerable. A fall wouldn't even faze you."

"I..."

Chloe didn't give him a chance to continue. "Look, it doesn't matter. We're going to practice and we're not leaving here until you make some sort of progress."

"But Chloe…"

She gave him her best, '_Don't argue with me_' looks. It seemed to work.

"How should I do this?" he asked, sounding defeated.

Chloe shrugged. "Close your eyes and try and think back to this morning. Try and remember what you did. I mean, you have a photographic memory, you should be able remember what you did."

Clark nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

Clark stood with his eyes closed and tried to clear his head of all the emotions he was feeling at the moment. He wasn't happy about Chloe dragging him into the woods to practice flying. He wasn't happy about trying to fly at all. What Chloe had said was true. He wouldn't be hurt by any fall, but heights still scared him for some reason. He pushed his fears aside though. Chloe was right about him having to learn to control his ability. Even if he chose not to use it, he still needed to be in control of it, just in case.

He thought back to that morning. He hadn't told Chloe but he had been dreaming, of her. It was similar to the dream he had had years ago of Lana. He had been floating over Chloe's bed, watching her sleep. In his dream he had known he was flying. He had not been afraid. He had watched as Chloe opened her eyes and smiled at him. She said something to him right before he woke up. What had she said?

Clark suddenly felt Chloe's arms go around his waist, breaking his concentration. He opened his eyes as she put herself right next to him. In fact she was even standing on his feet. Before he could open his mouth to ask what she was doing, she spoke first.

"I just realized that you were about to fly," she said.

"And? That doesn't explain why you suddenly wrapped yourself around me," he said. He was slightly uncomfortable and yet, felt strangely thrilled at her close contact.

"A good reporter gets as close to the news as she can so she can report it accurately. If you fly, I'm going up with you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Chloe, please, if I can't control it…"

Chloe nodded. "I know, but I trust you. The way I figure, you'll try that much harder to control it if you're concerned about me."

"Chloe…"

"Clark…"

He knew he wasn't going to win. He resisted the urge to pout; it would only increase her smugness at knowing she'd won, again. He closed his eyes and put his arms around her. He had to make sure she didn't fall if he managed to pull this off, he tried to convince himself. He couldn't lie though; it did feel good having her in his arms.

He emptied his thoughts of everything except the dream and of him floating that morning. What had he been feeling? It had been strange, he had felt in complete control of his body, as though he were free. He couldn't pinpoint that sensation. It had felt like he was… weightless? He had felt as though gravity no longer held him.

Clark tried to concentrate on that memory, to try and recapture that feeling of weightlessness. He felt the effects of gravity on his body as it pulled at him. How could he resist gravity? To fight nature?

For a brief second he had a fleeting memory of his time as Kal-El. A memory he had forgotten, or maybe suppressed. He remembered the feeling of power and of arrogance that he had felt as he no longer heeded the law of gravity. He had simply willed it and it was so.

Clark willed himself to break free, to break the law of gravity.

He suddenly felt different. His feet were still planted on the ground but he suddenly realized they didn't need to be. He opened his eyes and looked at Chloe. She was staring back at him, matching his gaze. He wondered if she felt it too. He looked up at the trees above him, looked at the tallest branches and wished that he was closer. He willed it. Suddenly, they began to grow closer.

"Whoa…" Chloe muttered, barely above a whisper as she looked around, clearly amazed.

Clark stopped just below the tree tops. Clark stared at her as they floated in the air. All of his fears of flying and of heights suddenly seemed so distant. She looked back at him and smiled. It was the same beautiful smile as his dream. What had she said?

_I love you, Clark._

He knew it had just been a dream. She probably didn't feel that way. Yet, without realizing what he was doing, Clark suddenly found himself bringing his right hand up to stroke her cheek. He pulled her closer with his left arm.

Part of him told him that he should stop. Land, get back in the car, and get back on the road to Wichita. She was just his friend and he didn't need any more complications.

It was too late, though. He was already kissing her.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Chloe felt her breath catch as Clark brushed her cheek. The look he was giving her held her captivated. She wasn't sure what he may have been thinking at that moment but when he lowered his head towards her all other thoughts drifted away. Their lips touched, tentatively at first, and Chloe felt her knees weaken. Clark was holding her close but she still managed to press herself even tighter against his muscular frame. She brought her left arm up behind Clark's neck and deepened the kiss. It was so electrifying that she could almost forget the fact that she was floating with Clark in midair, almost.

When the kiss ended, Chloe found herself once again gazing into Clark's eyes. "Wow, Kent," she said, "you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

Clark smiled in response for a few seconds then Chloe could see something in his expression changing. The smile faded and was replaced by another look she was familiar with. It was his "thinking" look, she called it. She may as well have been able to see wheels turning in his head. "What's wrong, Clark?" she asked.

Suddenly she felt them begin to lower towards the ground. "I'm sorry," said Clark. "We… I shouldn't have done that. I was just emotional because I was controlling my ability." He paused then repeated himself, saying, "I'm sorry."

They reached the ground as he finished speaking. Chloe took a small step back so that she was no longer standing on his feet, but still within reach.

"It's OK Clark. You don't have anything to apologize for," she said try to reassure him and secretly hoping to stop him from saying what she was expecting to come next. He was starting to use a classic defense mechanism. Apologize, deny and then avoid.

"Yes I do. I shouldn't have done that. I mean, we're just friends, right?" Clark phrased it as a question but from his tone of voice it more of a statement.

Reluctantly she nodded. "Yeah, Clark we're friends," she said as her spirits plummeted from the emotional high she had just been on.

True to her prediction Clark moved into avoidance mode. "We should go. We still have over an hour to go and you told Pete that we'd be there in time for lunch." He was looking at her like he wasn't sure if he was about to get his head bitten off or not.

Chloe wasn't angry with him though. Sure he had been the one that had initiated the kiss and then pulled away but she wasn't angry. Disappointed, yes, but not angry. She nodded in response to his statement. "Yea, I think we accomplished enough here." She didn't wait for him to respond before she started walking back to the car.

Ok, she was a little angry.

* * *

Clark was mentally kicking himself all the way back to the car. He'd screwed up. He shouldn't have kissed her. He wasn't even supposed to be there, let alone getting into a relationship. He really didn't need that complication. Not to mention, none of his previous relationships had worked out well. Maybe he was jinxed, he thought. He clinched his fist and resisted the urge to obliterate a nearby tree. He was an idiot, he told himself again. 

He watched Chloe as she walked a few feet in front of him. She was trying to hide the fact that she was a little angry with him, but he could tell. He always could.

They both got in the car without saying anything. Chloe gave him a small, tight smile. Clark knew that it was her attempt to show Clark that it was no big deal. He wanted to say something, anything, to maybe make things better. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing he could think of would help make things better at that point. So instead he closed his mouth and played it safe. At least that way he hoped he wouldn't make matters worse.

Chloe started the car and put it into drive. A few minutes later they were back on the interstate to Wichita, once again continuing the silence from earlier. In a way it felt odd. He knew he should be happy that he had controlled his new power. He could fly. He ought to be happy. Instead all he could think about was how he'd screwed up and made things uncomfortable between himself and Chloe.

* * *

After about fifteen minutes Chloe had calmed down. She didn't really blame Clark. She knew he was just afraid of getting too close. He'd told her enough of his previous relationships to know that they'd never ended well. She really couldn't be upset with him for being nervous; that and she was learning she wasn't able to stay upset with him for long. Plus her insecurities had crept in and she had started wonder whether she had been reading Clark's signals wrong. Maybe he did just get swept up in the moment. 

Rather than dwell on her mixed up feelings with Clark, she attempted to focus on more important things. She was going to be having with Pete's mom in the next few hours and they had to convince her to help them build an identity for Clark, one that would stand up to scrutiny. He was going to need it.

In the past few weeks since Nixon aired the video, Galaxy Communications, the owner of the Inquisitor and the Metropolis Channel Six news station, had turned up the heat. It owned a nationwide tabloid on which Clark had made the cover the week after he had been caught on video by Nixon. The week after, with no leads as to who the mystery person was, the reward had doubled. Most still saw it as a publicity stunt, but enough took it serious to stare suspiciously at anyone matching Clark's description.

Clark had managed to move around in public so far, in part because of his new look. His new image was based on attitude and his ability to sell that look. Clark handled it so brilliantly that even Chloe had to remind herself that he was faking as he managed to fumble with doors and bump into things as he walked. He even changed the tone of his voice, speaking a few octets higher than his normal voice and often too soft for people to catch what he said the first time. Those times they went in public no one looked at him twice. Not even when Clark once went out his way to talk to a store cashier about the tabloid article as he purchased it. He had mentioned that he had found himself constantly looking for people that resembled the person in the picture but hadn't had any luck. The cashier looked him dead in the eyes and had responded that she was the same way but hadn't had any luck either.

The people looking for Clark were still only a small portion of his problem though. Matt was still out there and they were no closer to discovering what he was after. For now they had no choice but to his game. Clark would appear to move on and start to make a life there. Which was why having a legitimate identity was so important.

There was one thing Chloe felt guilty about; she hadn't told Clark her entire plan. Sure he knew that they were hoping to get Judge Ross' help but Chloe knew that under normal circumstances they would never get Judge Ross to do what they needed done. They were going to have to up the stakes, to convince Judge Ross that Clark's situation was truly unique and unfortunately there was only one way to do that. They were going to have to tell Judge Ross Clark's secret. There really wasn't any other way. She was going to have to convince him that it was the right move, but first she'd better straighten things out between them.

She took a deep breath. "Are we going to go the rest of trip without talking?" She glanced over at Clark who shrugged.

"I was the one that screwed things up so I figured I'd give you however much time you needed to calm down."

"I wasn't mad," Chloe lied. Clark didn't look convinced so she repeated herself, trying to appear calm and collected. "I wasn't mad, Clark."

"Ok. I'm sorry I said you were. It just looked like you were."

"Well I wasn't. I mean it was just a kiss right? No big deal," she said. She tried to hide the sadness she felt when she said it.

"Right. No big deal," Clark said. He said it with what sounded like regret in his voice, but Chloe wasn't sure if she was reading too much into it or not.

"Ok, well now that that's settled. There's something else I need to talk to you about."

"What's that?" Clark asked curiously.

Chloe took another deep breath. Here goes. "Listen, I'm not sure if Judge Ross is going to just help us out without a good reason. I mean, what we're going ask her to do is pretty serious. She could get in a lot of trouble if it ever came out."

"So what are you suggesting?" Clark asked slowly, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"I think we have to tell them."

"Tell them what? My secret?" Clark asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I can't think of any other way, Clark."

"Chloe we can't do that. We just can't…"

"Is it because you're afraid of someone else knowing or is it because you're afraid of repeating what happened with the Pete from your world?" Clark's silent response confirmed to Chloe that it was probably the latter. Clark still felt guilty for Pete leaving Smallville in order to get away from his secret. She understood and if there was any other way, she'd take it.

"Chloe you don't understand…"

"No, Clark I do understand. You told me all about your relationship with Pete, but it won't be like that. Judge Ross and Pete won't be in your life. No one will even know you know them. They'll be fine."

He was quiet for a minute, then he asked, "Are you sure you can't just whip up a fake ID?"

Chloe shook her head. "I told you before. A fake ID may get you into a bar when you're underage but you can't live your life using one."

"I don't need to live my life with it. It just has to last until we figure out how to get me home," he said angrily.

His comment hung in the air. Chloe wasn't sure why it stung her. It was the ultimate goal after all, to help him find a way home. It's what she wanted for him, right? Yes, she told herself. If that's what he wanted then that's what she wanted. However, there was no telling when he could get home.

"Clark, we really don't know how long you're going to be here. Seeing as you've been here for almost five months now, its best to assume you could be here for quite some time. We need to do this."

Clark appeared to mull things over for several minutes. Chloe didn't interrupt him as it was best if he came to the same conclusion as she with as little help as possible. She knew that he knew she was right.

"If you think that's the only way…"he said finally, not sounding sure.

"Believe me Clark, I wish there was another way. I certainly don't want to give your secret up lightly. I also will not tell them if you don't agree. I'll do anything to protect your secret Clark, anything, but in this one case we need to tell someone. You trusted me with your secret, so trust me with the fact that this is the only way."

Clark nodded. "I do trust you, Chloe. We'll do whatever you think is best." He sounded more confident this time but there was still a hint of doubt in his voice.

"It will be fine Clark. I promise," said Chloe.

Clark nodded in response. "I know. Like I said, I trust you."

* * *

An hour later Clark and Chloe arrived at long gravel drive way that lead up to Judge Ross' home. It was a larger home, located on several acres of land a few miles outside the Wichita city limits. Pete had told Chloe that his Mom had grown accustomed to small town life and hadn't wanted to get a home in the city. Chloe was glad because Clark was going to need to provide a demonstration when she and Clark told them and it was easier outside. 

Chloe drove slowly up the long driveway before parking behind Pete's car. She had just turned the car off when she noticed the front door to the house open and Pete stepped out onto the front porch. Chloe instantly got excited. It had been the summer after high school when she had seen him last, almost a year and a half before.

She and Clark got out of the car at the same time. Clark hung back as she ran towards Pete. "Pete," she squealed as she embraced him.

"How you been, girl?" Pete asked as he returned the embrace.

After a moment they separated and Chloe answered, "I've been good. Wow, I see someone's been working out."

Pete chuckled as he brought his fists close together in front of him and flexed. "A little," he said as he showed off. Chloe rolled her eyes.

She noticed Pete glance over at Clark. "Pete, this is Clark Kent," she said motioning towards Clark. "And of course Clark, this is my best friend Pete Ross." She gave Clark a knowing smile, quite aware that Clark already knew Pete every bit as well as she did.

Clark extended his hand. "Nice to meet you Pete," he said in his soft voice. She noticed that he had slipped into character automatically. It was fast becoming second nature for him.

"Nice to meet you too, Clark. Chloe hasn't told me much about you, but if she likes you then I'm sure we'll get along." He grinned at Chloe as he spoke. She just shook her head, smiling.

"Hello, Chloe," a voice from behind Pete said. It was Judge Ross. Chloe quickly went over and embraced her as well. "It's so nice to see you again. I was so happy when Pete called and said that you wanted to visit."

"It's good to see you too, Bernice," Chloe said. She then motioned to Clark and said, "I want you to meet my friend Clark."

Clark and Judge Ross greeted each other and shook hands.

"Why don't we all go in and have lunch? I just finished preparing it a few minutes ago and I've practically had to bar Pete from the kitchen so there would be some left over for you two."

"That's sounds great." Chloe said. She glanced over at Clark and then continued speaking. "Um, before we go in, there was something that we need to tell you."

Judge Ross got a curious look on her face. "What is it, Chloe?"

"Well, we're in a bit of a predicament and we need your help."

Judge Ross face grew concerned. "You two aren't in some sort of trouble are you?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she said. She glanced over at Clark and said, "We'd better just show them and get it over with."

Clark nodded reluctantly. He turned and approached her car, removing his glasses as he did. She watched him slip them into his pocket as he glanced back at her. She nodded at him and then looked over at Pete and Judge Ross who were eyeing both her and Clark curiously. She smiled and glanced back at Clark just as he began to lift her car.

"Holy #$&!" Pete exclaimed. "How is –" Pete wasn't able to finish his sentence as the three of them continued to watch Clark lift the car off the ground and over his head.

Chloe looked over at Judge Ross and Pete, making eye contact with both. They both looked frightened and kept looking from Clark to her and then back to Clark. She turned back to Clark and said, "Might as well show them your new trick as well Clark."

She grinned as she watched Clark shake his head. He closed his eyes. For a few seconds she wondered if he would be able to do it again, but those thoughts were dispelled and when he slowly began to float into the air.

"#$," she heard Pete say.

"Watch your mouth, Pete," Judge Ross said, though her tone of voice held no conviction in it.

Clark hovered for only a few moments before returning to the ground. Slowly and carefully he eased the car back down to the ground. He looked over at Chloe who gave him a wink before she turned to address Pete and Judge Ross. She gave them a reassuring smile. "Now, that we really have your attention. We need your help."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Clark nervously removed his glasses from his pocket and slid them back onto his face. Unlike his normal nervousness in public, this time he wasn't acting. Showing the Rosses his secret had been the last thing he had wanted to do, but he trusted Chloe; more than anything. He just hoped that she was right and that the Rosses of this world would be willing to help him as much as Pete had in Clark's own world.

Pete had moved cautiously between his mother and Clark; a move that was not lost on Clark. He was clearly afraid for himself and for his mother. The look in Pete's eyes sent a surge of regret through Clark. It was the same look of fear he had given Clark when he first learned of Clark's powers. He was looking at Clark like he was a freak, an alien. Clark closed his eyes wondering if he was wrong to trust Chloe. The last thing he wanted was to make this Pete go through the same things the other Pete had.

As Clark began to open his eyes he heard Chloe speak. "It's ok you two. Everything is fine." Clark saw that she had placed herself between the Rosses and himself. "Please. He's my friend," she said in a gentle voice.

Clark watched as Pete glanced at him, then to Chloe, then back to Clark. Judge Ross eyed him very intently; a look that Clark was sure many people facing her on the bench must have nervous at. She wasn't a large woman by any means, but Judge Bernice Ross had a presence that people noticed and respected. It struck Clark that even though he had just shown them something that most would have considered impossible, she was merely looking at him as though he was just another high powered attorney facing her bench. To say that she was a strong woman would be an understatement.

Judge Ross placed her hand on Pete's shoulder as she continued to look at Clark and nodded. "Come inside, Clark. We'll listen to what the two of you have to say." Clark felt himself breathe a sigh of relief.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Mom," Pete said turning towards her. Clearly he was shocked and frightened at what he had just witnessed. Clark couldn't blame him though. It hurt, but he couldn't blame him.

Judge Ross looked at him and then to Chloe. "Any friend of Chloe's is welcome in my house, anytime. Now come on, we'll have lunch and then we can talk about… that," she said as she gestured towards the car.

"Thanks, Bernice," Chloe said. Judge Ross nodded and she guided Pete by the shoulder and the two of them began walking back towards the house.

Clark approached Chloe hesitantly, as she stood waiting for him. "I guess that went as well as to be expected. I didn't know you were going to want to drop the bomb so soon."

Chloe shrugged and smiled. "Figured we'd just get it out of the way," she said. She looked at him closely for a second and then asked, "You OK?"

Clark nodded. "I think so. It's just hard, going through this again. Pete really freaked out the first time I told him and he doesn't appear to be doing so well this time, either."

Chloe patted him on the arm. "It will be fine. I know Pete pretty well too you know. He'll manage. Now, come on. They'll be waiting for us."

Clark nodded glanced up at the house and watched the Rosses disappear inside. He started take a step towards the house and then stopped himself. Chloe stopped too and looked back at him. The kiss from earlier was still bothering him. "Listen Chloe," he said, "I just wanted to apologize, again, for making things uncomfortable between us. I am sorry."

Chloe nodded. Her face was a mask that didn't betray her emotions. "It's OK Clark. We should probably talk about it later, OK?" Clark nodded in response.

Chloe continued to look at him, then very quickly took a step towards him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Now, come on, we don't want to make them wait much longer." Without waiting for a response she quickly began to walk towards the house.

Clark watched her walk away as he felt his cheek where she kissed him. He was fighting with a mix of emotions. Thoughts of the kiss he had shared with her earlier wouldn't leave his head completely. He was still angry with himself, but for different reasons. He had enjoyed the kiss, but it scared him. Then when he added the fact that Chloe now seemed nonchalant about it, he realized that it probably really hadn't been that big of a deal to her. He was surprised at how upset that made him but he figured it was for the best. They would continue to be friends even though he found himself starting to want something more. Something that he shouldn't even be entertaining. But, he'd grown accustomed to hiding his feelings; he had certainly gained enough practice when dealing with Lana all through high school. He knew could keep it up until he found a way home.

"For someone so fast, you sure move slowly," he heard Chloe call out, interrupting his thoughts. She was already at the door to the house and was waiting for him. He turned on the speed for a millisecond and watched her jump slightly when he appeared right next to her. She swatted playfully on the arm and then stepped inside.

Clark followed her inside, through the living room and into the large kitchen. Pete and Judge Ross were already sitting at the small kitchen table as he and Chloe entered. Pete had apparently waited long enough to eat and already had a plate half full of food.

"Have a seat, you two," Judge Ross said. Clark did so, grabbing the chair opposite to Judge Ross.

"Everything looks great, Judge Ross," said Clark as he looked at the food spread out across the table.

The lunch spread was typical Bernice Ross; great food and plenty of it. There were plenty of meats and cheeses for sandwiches along with several choices of bread. Potato salad, a pasta salad and even a lemon meringue pie were also there, all of which Clark guessed was homemade. Clark eyed the potato salad with particularly great interest and felt his stomach rumble. He had forgotten how much he missed her potato salad. When Clark was growing up Pete's mom had always made the best potato salad, even better than his own mom. From the looks of things this Judge Ross was every bit as skilled.

"Thank you, Clark," Bernice responded as they all took a seat around the table. "Now don't be shy and help yourself to however much you can eat."

Clark took her instructions literally. Chloe's eyes bugged out at the heaping spoonfuls that Clark placed on his plate. He just gave her an innocent look, shrugged and followed it with a smile which prompted an approving look from Bernice. Pete scowled and Clark suspected only part of it was because he didn't know what to make of Clark. The other reason would be because it would just mean fewer leftovers for him later on.

They chatted lightly as they ate. Chloe talked about school and her job at the Planet. Pete filled everyone in how his school was going as well. They talked about whatever they could think of while working to avoid the real issue at hand; Clark.

The subject couldn't be avoided forever though and as they were finishing up; Bernice finally asked the question they had all been waiting for. "What exactly do you kids need from me?" She asked it in reassuring almost motherly tone, clearly willing to hear them out.

Chloe picked up her purse from under the table and started rifling through it. "We'll first there is something I wanted you to take a look at." After a few seconds she pulled out several folded newspaper clippings. She carefully unfolded them and handed them over to Judge Ross who started flipping through them. "I don't suppose you've seen any of those articles in the papers lately?"

Bernice nodded. "I don't normally read the Inquisitor, but yes, I was aware of them." Taking a closer look at one of the pictures in the clippings she paused and stared at Clark. She raised an eyebrow. "I have to say Mr. Kent, if I hadn't just seen your miraculous abilities I would have gone on thinking these articles were a hoax. I certainly wouldn't have ever picked up on the fact that this is you in the photos."

Clark nodded. "That's what I've been shooting for. However those articles are only part of my problem."

"And I'm assuming the rest of your problem concerns me?" Judge Ross inferred correctly.

"We need your help building an identity for Clark. He doesn't technically exist as far as anyone is concerned."

Judge Ross's demeanor grew serious. She looked at Clark and asked, point blank, "Are you an illegal alien, Clark?"

Clark coughed, at first only hearing the alien part. He was reaching for his glass of water before the word "illegal" registered and he managed to regain some composure. He knew Chloe had said that they were going to tell the Rosses his secret but he was already having second thoughts about telling them everything. If possible, he decided, he wanted to avoid telling them about his alien heritage. He took a quick drink and responded, "Not in the typical sense, Judge Ross."

"Now, what does that mean?" Judge Ross asked, her tone held only the slightest hint of curiosity.

"It's like Chloe said, I don't exist in any records. I'm not a citizen of any nation because there are no records of me anywhere, though I have lived in the US my entire life."

"If you've lived here your entire life but aren't an illegal alien, why is there no record of you? No birth certificates? Nothing?"

Clark shook his head. "To be honest with you Judge Ross, I can't tell you everything. It's better for everyone if you don't know any more about me than you have to. You've seen what I can do and you've seen the papers. There are people who will seek to exploit me anyway they can. What I will say is that I have never committed a crime and I don't plan on it."

"Fair enough. I don't like it but I do understand given the circumstances," Judge Ross said as she gestured towards the newspaper clippings. "Assuming I am willing to help, what is it that you want from me?"

Chloe spoke up before Clark had a chance to, "We wanted to file for a name change for Clark. Obviously he's not changing his name, but since he doesn't have any current identification it's the perfect way to create some. We'd also like to have the record of his name change sealed by the court to prevent anyone from going through the records and find that he didn't have the appropriate paperwork to begin with."

Judge Ross got an impressed look on her face. "Interesting way to handle it, Chloe. However, I'm a federal judge, not a county judge anymore. Name changes aren't my jurisdiction anymore. Not unless…" Judge Ross stopped shared a smile with Chloe. "I guess this would be appropriate then."

Pete, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly spoke up. "OK, you guys lost me. Why is what appropriate?"

Judge Ross responded, "The only time I have the authority to handle a name change is in the case of a newly naturalized citizen. All name changes granted to new citizens must be approved by a federal judge."

Chloe nodded and said, "Right. And like I said, Clark won't have his citizenship papers so that's why we need the record sealed by the court."

Pete asked, "Isn't it illegal? I mean can't my Mom get in trouble for this."

"It is Pete. Highly illegal," Judge Ross said solemnly. "However, as I'm sure Chloe is well aware, it will be very difficult to prove any wrong doing. If I seal the records it will take another federal judge to unseal them. They won't be inclined to do so; we judges don't like to step on each other's toes. So anyone seeking to unseal the records will almost certainly end before the Court of Appeals and they had better have a damn good reason for unsealing the records. If that fails, which it probably would, their only other option would be the Supreme Court who are unlikely to accept the case anyway."

"And," Chloe said, "even if someone somehow managed to find a court willing to unseal the records, it would be nearly impossible to prove any wrong doing with the missing paperwork. I mean clerical mistakes happen all the time."

"But there's still a chance that my mom can get in trouble though, right? Could you go to jail for this?" Pete asked.

Chloe and Judge Ross nodded as Judge Ross said, "I'm not saying I'm ready to go with this yet. However, your idea does have potential."

Clark looked over at Pete and said, "Listen Pete, I would never ask your Mom to do something if Chloe and I thought there was much of a chance of her getting into trouble. Your mom has a lifetime appointment. The only way she can have her judgeship removed is for her to be impeached by Congress. The only time Congress ever gets around to impeaching a judge is when the judge has been convicted and is actually in prison. Until they impeach her, her pay and position is protected by the Constitution itself." Then Clark looked at Judge Ross and continued, "I want you to know that I won't let that ever happen to you. If things go wrong and it looks like you could get into trouble, I'll make a deal with the government in return for any charges against you to be dropped. We both know that they would be incredibly interested in what I can do."

Clark added the promise to Judge Ross on the spur of the moment because he wanted her and Pete to feel assured that he wouldn't leave her hung out to dry for helping him. Though it frightened him, he really would use his powers however he had to, within reason, to keep Judge Ross out of trouble.

"I appreciate that Clark," Judge Ross said, before looking at Chloe. "You've always been like a daughter to me and I would do anything for you. Will you give me your word that everything you've said is on the level, Chloe?"

Chloe nodded sincerely. "Of course Bernice. I hate even having to ask you to do this as it is and I would never lie to you."

"Ok," Judge Ross said, "I'll give my assistant a call and have her bring over the appropriate paperwork."

Clark felt a sense of relief wash over him. Before he had a chance to speak though, Chloe was clapping with glee. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around Judge Ross, who responded in kind in a motherly fashion."

"Thank you Judge Ross. I'll make sure you never regret this," Clark said, his voice filled with gratitude.

* * *

Chloe and Judge Ross sat outside on Judge Ross's patio watching Clark and Pete play basketball. True to her word, Judge Ross had called her assistant and was busy making arrangements for the appropriate paperwork to be brought out to the house.

Chloe watched Clark shoot another basket. _SWISH._ He hadn't missed any so far, though he seemed to going easy on Pete and making it seem like the game was closer than it easily could have been. Pete had calmed down quite a bit since lunch, seeming less agitated by Clark's presence the more time he spent with him. Chloe wondered if it was another one of his superpowers, making people trust him. It certainly seemed like it.

It was Chloe that had suggested they play a game of basketball. Clark had mentioned to her previously that he and Pete used to play all the time. At her suggestion Clark jumped on the idea though Pete had been reluctant at first. Clark offered to not use his powers and to keep one foot on the ground at all times. Eventually Clark convinced him when he questioned the fairness of playing against Pete in the first place.

"I don't care what kind of powers you have, you're not getting past me," Pete had said as Chloe giggled.

Judge Ross finally hung up the phone. "She'll be here in about an hour."

Chloe frowned, "I hate to make her come out on a weekend."

Judge Ross waved her off, "It's part of the job. It doesn't happen too often and she knows I'll make sure that it's important when it does."

Chloe nodded. "I did have one more favor to ask, though I'm not sure if you can help with it."

"What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering if you knew anyone in the US Marshals office that you can trust? Particularly anyone with WITSEC?"

"What do you want with WITSEC?" Judge Ross asked. WITSEC was short for Witness Security, more commonly known as the Witness Relocation Program.

"I don't want anything from them officially, but if you know someone there that would be willing to do you a huge favor we could really use them. We still have to find Clark a job and maybe get him into school. I know it's pretty common for the US Marshals to quietly approach businesses in order to place witnesses. I'm sure the same is true for colleges and universities."

Judge Ross smiled. "Well, you're in luck. I think I may know someone who can help. An old boyfriend from high school works there. We bumped into each other at the courthouse a few weeks back and had lunch together."

"You think he'd be willing to help?" Chloe asked, getting excited.

Judge Ross shrugged and said, "Won't hurt to ask him. I may have to go on a date with him to get him to agree, though." She laughed as she said it.

Chloe smiled, "Well, so long as you don't mind…"

"Not at all, Chloe. I meant what you said about you being like a daughter to me."

Chloe blushed and responded. "Thank you Bernice. You are the closest thing I ever had to a mother. You've always been so great to me."

Judge Ross smiled and turned her attention to Pete and Clark. "He really is remarkable isn't he? To have abilities like that and yet having no desire to abuse them."

Chloe nodded in agreement, as she turned to Clark as well. "Yeah, he is remarkable," she said as she watched him intently.

"You love him, don't you Chloe?" Judge Ross said as she turned back to Chloe. It was less of a question and more of a statement.

Caught off guard, Chloe looked over at Judge Ross. "What? Of course not…. I mean… I…" She stopped and looked back at Clark. He was laughing as he dribbled the ball, avoiding Pete who seemed desperate to steal it. Her head wanted to say no. He was just her friend. Yet as she continued to watch him, as Judge Ross's question sunk in, she was finally able to put a name to many of the feelings she'd been having lately. It really was more than infatuation with him. He was the most remarkable person she had ever met.

As she watched Clark get ready to make a shot she responded to Judge Ross. "Yes. I think I do."

_DONG!_ The basketball hit the rim and bounced off into Pete's direction, who grabbed it gleefully.

Chloe wondered briefly if Clark had been listening to her, if her comment had been the reason he had missed his shot. It was the first one that he missed since he'd started playing. Part of her got nervous at the idea of him knowing. Yet another part, small but growing, was realizing that she didn't care if he had heard or not. She shouldn't care because she wanted him to know. Wanted him to know that for better or for worse, just friends or not; she did love him.


	16. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's left such great feedback. I'm glad you've been enjoying this so far.

**

* * *

Chapter 15**

It was early evening and Chloe and Pete sat on the back deck watching the sun descend slowly towards the horizon. They were talking about old times, friends they've kept in contact with and those they've lost touch with. They had finished dinner about thirty minutes before and Clark was inside finishing up some of the paperwork that needed to be done. Bernice's old boyfriend, Andre Johnson had arrived a couple hours before after being invited over by Bernice. He was suspicious at first but had agreed to help at Bernice's prompting. It was a long process, between the paperwork and the arrangements that her old boyfriend was going to need to make.

Pete hadn't been happy when Bernice had asked Andre to stay for dinner, though he tried to hide it. Chloe was sympathetic to him. She knew the divorce of his parents had been hard on him. He had always hoped they'd find a way to work things out, even after she had moved to Wichita. Seeing his mom around another man was like the final nail in the coffin.

The back door opened behind them and Chloe turned her head to see who had opened it. Clark stepped outside and she gave him a smile. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied. He looked over to Pete hesitantly then looked back to her. "Would you like to take a walk? I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes."

"Uh, sure," she responded. She looked at Pete and asked, "You don't mind do you?"

Pete shook his head. "We can talk more when you get back."

Clark said, speaking to Pete, "We won't be gone long, Pete."

"Andre? He still here?" asked Pete. When Clark nodded, Pete groaned. "You owe me for that, man. Seriously." Clark gave another nod to show that he understood.

"We'll be back soon, Pete," said Chloe. Pete just waved goodbye in response.

Clark led Chloe around the house and down the long driveway. As they reached the road he led them to the right. They didn't speak at first; both just seemed to soak in the peaceful silence as they walked. It had been a very long day for both of them. About a half mile away they came to a dirt road and Clark motioned for her to follow. The sun continued to descend and could barely be seen through the trees that lined the road.

"You seem to know where we're going," she observed.

Clark shrugged. "Pete's mom said that this was a nice walk. She walks this way all the time for exercise and relaxation she said." Chloe nodded in response.

After another moment Clark sighed. "I'm glad this day is almost over."

"I was thinking the same thing. It was a big day."

"You're telling me. Pete's mom was really serious about doing everything by the book as much as she could. She even gave me the oath of citizenship."

Chloe giggled. "Seriously?"

Clark gave her a look that showed that he was. "This is her Honorable Judge Ross we're talking about."

Chloe said, "Yea, I guess you're right. How'd everything go with her friend?"

"Great so far. Pete's mom did a good job of smoothing him over. Maybe a little too much. The way they were flirting in there… I was glad when I had a chance to leave the room."

Chloe snickered. "Poor Pete. They were driving him crazy at dinner tonight."

"Yeah. Though I'm not sure how I'd handle my mom dating again."

"Well, I think it's great. She deserves some happiness."

"I know, but I still feel for Pete," Clark said with sympathy in his voice.

"Me too," said Chloe. "But going back to her friend… He's going to get you a social security number?"

"Yea, he said it's no problem. WITSEC has special contacts in the Social Security Administration. For a typical government witness getting a new identity, the contact will create a new number and transfer any funds associated with their old number to the new one. It's actually easier in cases like mine, because they just need to issue a new number. The contact handles everything to maintain secrecy."

"And he's going to take care of everything at Met U and the Daily Planet?" She had suggested the Daily Planet as a place to get Clark work, in part because she liked being close to him as much as possible. However, she was a bit surprised when he agreed so readily.

Clark nodded. "Yes, he's going to Metropolis this week to make the arrangements. He said that there shouldn't be any problems. Businesses are always willing to help in these cases. He said that he's rarely had anyone rejected and quite often he's placing former mafia members and people like that. Met U will be even easier because there's an established relationship with the Dean there. He's had several people enrolled in school there in the last couple of years. I'll need to take the SAT to have on file but I shouldn't have a problem with it."

"No, I can't imagine you would." Chloe paused. "Clark, you don't mind working at the Planet do you? I mean, I don't want you to work there just because I want you to."

Clark shook his head. "No, actually I think it's a good idea."

"You do?" Chloe said unsure.

Clark nodded. "Yes, I do. I didn't do much writing in high school until my senior year but I did really start enjoying it at the end. I mean, I've always liked science and math but they're usually fairly easy. Writing is another matter all together. It's tough to write something that really touches someone and I really do like the challenge."

Chloe felt impressed and her face showed as much. "Wow, Clark. I'm a little surprised. I know you mentioned you wrote for the Torch, but you never said you liked it one way or another."

Clark shrugged and smiled. "Well, I do. Plus, you'll be there so how can I refuse?"

Chloe felt herself blushing and turned away.

"Ah, here we go," Clark said. Chloe looked back at him and he was gesturing towards the side of the road where a small path lay. They walked for about fifteen feet until the trees came to an end and a small stream separated them from a large cornfield ahead. Above the cornfield the sunset was clearly visible. Clark gestured for Chloe to take a seat on a nearby tree stump and took a seat himself. There was plenty of room for the two of them.

"Pete's mom said that this would probably be a good place to watch the sunset and talk."

Chloe looked over at Clark and said, "Mr. Kent, if I wasn't mistaken I would think this was bordering on being romantic."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I… uh," he stammered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Relax, Clark. I'm teasing." Well, only partly she told herself. "So… What did you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Clark said with an uncertain tone of voice. Chloe looked at him as though she didn't believe him, which she didn't. He continued, "I guess I just wanted to know where we're at. You know, after what happened today?"

Chloe looked at him intently. "I don't know, Clark. Where do you want us to be?" She wasn't going to let him off easy on this one.

Clark sighed. "Listen Chloe, I meant it. I am really sorry. It was just a heat of the moment thing. I was just caught up in everything that was going on. I'm really sorry."

Chloe began chuckling, to which Clark gave her a surprised look. "You know Clark. I know you want me to believe that it was a heat of the moment thing and you could probably convince me if it wasn't for one thing."

"What's that?" Clark asked nervously.

"The kiss wasn't just a peck on the lips. It was open-mouthed and had enough tongue to make a Frenchmen proud. It was a little more than just 'caught in the moment,' don't you think?"

Clark's eyes widened. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but stopped.

Before he had a chance to start again, Chloe put her hand on his arm as she spoke. "What are you so afraid of?"

"What makes you think I'm afraid of anything," said Clark, defensively.

Chloe softened her voice, to ease the tension that was beginning to rise. "Clark, this is me you're talking to. I'd like to think that I've gotten to know you quite well these past months. For all your spectacular abilities you carry some terrible fears."

"Like what?"

"For one, I think you have a fear of commitment and of getting too close. That fear is only outweighed by your fear of being alone." Her voice was still soft and she scooted closer as she spoke to him. She didn't want to turn this into an argument; she just wanted to wake him up a little.

Clark opened his mouth to respond but for the second time in the past few minutes he was speechless. He turned away from her and looked straight ahead, staring at the stream and at the sunset beyond. Chloe moved her hand down his arm and took his hand in hers.

Finally he spoke, "I don't have good luck with relationships. Every time I allowed myself to get close to someone it went bad."

"Clark, do you know how many people have had bad luck with relationships?" Chloe paused long enough for him to shrug. "That would be pretty much… everyone. But what we're really talking about is your relationship with Lana Lang, right?" she asked. When he nodded she said, "Clark, she's every bit to blame for your relationship issues as you are."

"Why do you think that? I was the one that wouldn't tell her my secret."

"Clark, she was running around with another guy, behind your back. With someone you were barely on speaking terms with." She leaned in and whispered, "That's not normal girlfriend behavior, by the way."

"It wasn't like that. They're just friends and I would never presume to tell her who she could be friends with."

"No. I wouldn't expect you too, but she didn't always tell you when she was seeing him did she? In fact, she probably used the fact that you were secretive as an excuse to justify when she didn't tell you, didn't she?"

Clark sighed but nodded.

"Clark, tell me. Was the only reason you told her your secret was because you felt that you had too? Otherwise she would have left you, wouldn't she have?"

Clark nodded again, still facing forward. The sky was darkening and the sun was on its last sliver before it disappeared over the horizon.

"And so you told her and look what happened. On the very night you get engaged, she runs off to see him again and once again in secret. She knew that if she told you where she was going that you'd be upset. On top of that, she didn't even go a full day before she blew the fact that she knew your secret. Stop me if I'm off base with any of this."

Clark shook his head. "No, that's pretty much it."

"That's why you didn't tell her again wasn't it? Not just because you felt like needed to keep her safe. You had to stop that bus again anyway. It was because you felt betrayed, wasn't it?"

Clark didn't answer and from Chloe's perspective he didn't need to.

"Clark," she continued. "Because of your abilities you tend to want to shoulder all the responsibility for whatever you're involved in, but you can't always do that. Not even you can do that. You also have a tendency to accept all the blame, even when it isn't yours to accept. She played an equal part in your issues and its time you started accepting that."

They sat and watched the last of the sunset. Chloe continued to sit close to him as she let her words sink in. Finally, Clark sighed. "Chloe, its more than all that. You know who I am; what I am. I'm not normal and I'll never be normal."

"What is normal Clark? Being human?" Chloe asked, growing a little frustrated. "You have such amazing abilities yet you act as though they handicap you. They're gifts Clark, not curses. Tell your sad story to anyone with a real handicap and they're going to wonder 'What's this guy whining about?' I'm betting any person in a wheelchair, any person who's blind, and any person who's deaf would give anything to trade places with you in a heartbeat."

"Chloe…" Clark said sadly.

Chloe interrupted him, "I'm serious Clark." She stood up and faced him. "Don't you think it's about time you stopped trying to fight who you are? You've been in denial for so long that it's like you believe that if you just hold out somehow you can become human. If you don't find a way to accept who you are and come to terms with your feelings, you're going to find out that you wasted a lot of time being unhappy."

Clark stood up his voice rising slightly. "What about my going home? Am I supposed to just accept that too?"

Chloe didn't back down and she met his glare straight on. "Of course not. There's a difference between accepting the things you can't change and giving up on those that you can. You're problem is that you simply sink into denial about everything."

"That's not true, Chloe."

A gust of wind picked up and Chloe shivered involuntarily. "Listen, I don't want to argue Clark. It's been a long day and I'm really tired."

The anger in Clark's eyes faded slightly as he nodded. "I guess we should head back."

"No, Clark, I want some time to myself and maybe you need some as well."

"I'm not going to let you just walk back in the dark," Clark said.

"Well, with your eyes, I'm sure can keep a pretty good eye on me. I'll be fine, especially since you're only a split second away."

Clark nodded. "You're probably right. A good run might do me some good right now. I'll keep an eye on you until reach the house."

Hesitating slightly, Chloe stepped forward and gave him a quick hug, which was returned. "I'll see you in a little while," she said.

"OK," Clark said solemnly.

Chloe turned and began walking up the trail to the road. She didn't glance back. She wasn't sure how much of what she had said would truly reach Clark but she believed that he needed to hear it anyway. She hadn't said anything everything that she had wanted to say but she thought that she'd said enough. It probably hadn't been the right time to bring up her conversation with Bernice anyway. Though she as she wasn't sure if he had overheard or not, she felt maybe he should bring it up if he had.

Shivering slightly at the growing chill she quickened her pace towards the Ross home.

* * *

As soon as Clark watched Chloe enter the house, he removed his glasses and placed them in his jacket pocket. Once they were safely tucked away he turned and began to run. He ran west with no particular destination in mind other than to stretch his legs. He pushed hard and the miles streamed past in a blur. The sky above began to grow lighter and lighter until Clark could begin to see the sun slowly appear in the western sky.

Clark's emotions threatened to consume him. He was angry, frustrated and most of all, hurt. Chloe's words had stung and yet Clark couldn't combat the ring of truth in them. She was right about his habitual denial and about his tendency shoulder responsibility for everything and the guilt that came with any failure. She was right, but that didn't mean he could help doing it nor did it make hearing it any easier.

Clark followed the highways and eventually the interstate as they led him further west and through the Rocky Mountains. The mountains were beautiful this time of evening and it made Clark realize that Chloe had been right about something else as well. There were so many people in the world that suffered from any number of afflictions. Some were bitter, others depressed and yet so many lived with them with little or no complaint. He knew his parents had raised him better than the way he acted sometimes. They had said similar things to him over the years, but he'd been too stubborn to listen too closely; he'd been too busy feeling sorry for himself. Yet, Chloe's words had seemed to cut him where he'd been able to brush off his parent's words.

Chloe. Her beautiful face appeared in his mind. Was he kidding himself when he told her that the kiss had been in the heat of the moment?

_You love him, don't you Chloe_, he had heard Judge Ross say to Chloe earlier. At the time he remembered thinking a thousand different things at once. Part of him had wanted to her to say no, to help justify his rationalization of their kiss earlier. Yet when her first words had been "Of course not," it had felt like he had been punched in the gut, hard.

_Yes. I think I do._ He wasn't sure it had been easier or harder to hear those words than the first words she had said. She'd caused him to miss his basketball shot he had been attempting to make, though he was pretty sure she hadn't noticed even though it was the first and only one he missed. She probably would have called him on it during their talk earlier if she had noticed. Those words had been playing through his head the rest of the day. He'd barely been able to concentrate when working with Judge Ross and Andre. He was more confused than ever about her now.

Clark's path along the interstate took him towards the south. He tore through Las Vegas in mere moments. It sparked memories of a woman that he once claimed to love, Alicia Baker. She was another person about whom he felt guilty. It was guilt for not trusting her enough, for not believing her when she needed him to the most. Her death had hit him hard and he still carried the scars. He had loved her, even though he later told Lana that he hadn't.

Yet, when he thought about it now, in comparison to Chloe, he wondered how much he really had. His feelings for Alicia felt like a mere candle compared to the bonfire of feelings that he was finding he had for Chloe. It was another in the long list of reasons as to why he was so confused about Chloe.

Soon he was approaching the Californian coast. His first instinct was to stop once reached the ocean and head back to Wichita. Another thought came to him as he drew closer. Three times that day he'd controlled his new ability to fly. Yet each time, it had been more floating than anything else. Maybe it was time he pushed himself to the next level.

As he reached the ocean beach, he jumped, closed his eyes and concentrated, seeking to break away from gravity's pull. As with each successive time he had done so, it came easier than before. The momentum from his jump, along with his new freedom from gravity, propelled him far out from the coast. He tried not to look down, instead focusing on the clouds above, as he still didn't have a firm grasp on his fear of heights yet. It was getting better though.

Concentrating he began to propel himself forward, just a moderate speed at first and then slowly increasing it. Steadily he forced himself to look down at the ocean below him. His stomach churned a bit but soon calmed. As it did, Clark pushed himself to go even faster and to go higher.

He was moving fast enough that the sun actually appeared to be climbing in the sky. It was an odd sight, seeing it move from west to east. He couldn't wait to tell her about this.

Chloe. Even now, he couldn't escape thoughts of her. As he pushed himself even higher and faster he continued to think about her and he should do about her. He'd spent the last several weeks reminding himself that they were just friends; suppressing every emotion that said otherwise. Yet, if they were just friends, why did he have to keep reminding himself of that fact?

Once again, the exchange between Pete's mom and Chloe played through his head.

_You love him, don't you Chloe._

_Yes. I think I do._

They stirred up so many emotions, those words.

_If you don't find a way to accept who you are and come to terms with your feelings, you're going to find out that you wasted a lot of time being unhappy._

He wondered if Chloe meant more than just coming to terms with him being an alien when she'd said those words. In his heart, he knew she probably was and she was right, once again. No matter how scared he was of the outcome, he needed come to terms with the feelings he'd been having for her.

Under what was now, the noonday sun, he approached the coast of Asia. He continued to think of what he was going to do as he pushed himself even faster and higher.

* * *

Chloe quietly walked down the stairs of the Ross house. It was morning, just a little past seven. No one else was awake that she could hear. Normally she would have slept in a little later but she was worried. Clark had never returned the previous night.

She'd waited up with Pete for several hours before Pete convinced her to go to bed. "Clark obviously can take care of himself," Pete had said. It was true, but she it hadn't helped quell her concern.

Twice during the night she had pretended to go to the rest room just so she could peek in the room that Bernice had offered to Clark for the night. Both times the room was empty and the bed still perfectly made.

She entered the kitchen and decided to start the coffee brewing. Once that was started she glanced over to one of the windows. She wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, staring out towards the rising sun, but she felt some relief flood her.

Trying not to make any noise as she opened the door that led to the deck, for fear of waking someone inside the house, she quickly stepped outside.

Clark didn't turn as she approached and stood next to him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied softly, still staring out at the morning sun.

"You never came back last night. Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked.

Clark shook his head. "I had too much to think about."

"Anything you wanted to share?" she asked.

Clark opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. Chloe watched him take a deep breath and he turned to look at her for the first time. "Can I ask you something?" There was something in his eyes that she wasn't sure of; a look of fear but also of determination.

"Anything," she responded.

Clark took another deep breath. He glanced at the ground and then back at her. "Did you…" He stopped for second and then started over. "Did you mean what you said to Pete's mom?"

Chloe felt her heart rate increase a little. She was sure she knew what he was talking about but she needed him to say it. "Can you be more specific?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I… wanted to know if you meant when you said…" Clark took yet another deep breath. "I wanted to know if you meant what you said when you said you loved me." He said with his voice nearly trailing off at the end.

"I wound never lie to Bernice, Clark." Chloe said softly, her head down and unable to meet his gaze. She wasn't going to lie to him, but she was still afraid of his reaction and the possibility of rejection.

Clark moved in close to her as they were now facing each other. He slowly lifted her chin with his right arm until they were looking at each other, eye to eye. "Please, Chloe. I need to..."

"Yes," she said interrupting him, almost sharply. It was her way of trying to maintain some control. She knew she needed to be strong for whatever outcome. "Yes, I love you," she said quickly.

Clark continued to stare into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then, almost unexpectedly to Chloe, he began to draw in closer, bringing his head down towards hers.

Their lips were only an inch apart when she suddenly jerked her head to the side. Clark pulled back slightly, a look of fear filling his eyes.

"Clark. Don't," she whispered. "Don't do it unless you mean it."

Clark brought both hands up and cupped her cheeks. "Chloe," he said, whispering. "I won't lie to you. I'm scared. I'm scared of what this may lead to and of what may happened but I mean it this time. I want this. I promise."

Chloe felt her eyes water as she slipped her hands up and behind his neck. He then closed the distance between them, bringing his lips down to hers. Whereas, their kiss the day before had been fierce the result of emotions running high, this one was tenderer. Also, as with their previous kiss, reality proved far better than those kisses they shared in her dreams.

Chloe wasn't sure how long they shared the kiss, but eventually she pulled back to catch her breath. Looking up at him, she couldn't help but smile. He pulled her close in an embrace she willingly returned. She didn't think it was possible for her to feel more happy and alive at that moment. Clark proved her wrong though, with four small words.

"I love you too."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Matt's life at that moment consisted of two things: pain and darkness. His right leg was trapped and in tremendous pain. Every muscle ached, every breath was a struggle. Occasionally, the thick dust in the stale air would cause him to have horrible coughing fits._

_He tried to lick his parched and cracked lips in a vain attempt to ease their discomfort. It didn't help._

_"Dad?" Matt said, his voice croaking. At first there was no response. In the darkness, he heard a groan followed by some coughing. The coughing continued for what seemed like several minutes. Finally, it subsided and then there was nothing._

_He heard a barely audible voice. "Don't worry, Matt. They'll find us soon. Someone will find us…," the voice said, trailing off. He'd been repeating it every so often, for hours, maybe longer. _

_With all his strength Matt called out with his hoarse voice. "Help! Help us!" It was barely more than a whisper._

_Pain and darkness; they were the only two constants in his life._

_He was six years old and he was buried alive. _

Matt's eyes snapped open. The room around him was pitch black. He sat up in bed and rubbed his face attempting to clear the fog of sleep from his mind.

"Lights on," he said and a panel of fluorescent lights mounted to the ceiling above blinked on. The room around him was quite large, yet barren; the only exceptions were the bed, a small dresser, and a table with various items of equipment laying on it. There were three doors in the room, one leading to a small bathroom and shower, another to a closet and the third out into the rest of the facility.

Matt slowly stood and began to cross the room. The loose fitting grey tee shirt and shorts did little to hide his slim, muscular physique. In the bathroom, he turned the cold water on in the sink. The cold water he splashed on his face sent a shock to his system and brought him to full alert.

He shed his clothes and entered the small shower. He turned on the water and let it rush over him as the dream continued to play through his head. It was the same dream he'd had every so often for the past twenty-five years or so. He'd spent two days buried in the rubble of a collapsed building with his father nearby. The odds of both he and his father surviving such an incident had been small, yet they had. The circumstances of their rescue had been miraculous as well and only later Matt had learned that it had been, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, impossible. Yet it had happened.

His life was never the same after that. Nightmares had plagued him. He had suffered from claustrophobia and was afraid of the dark for years. Eventually, with counseling well into his teenage years, he came to terms with the experience and now only had the occasional dream. Though, even though it happened at such a young age, it would affect him the rest of his life.

His dad never fully recovered; his health suffering for years before he succumbed to lung cancer and passed. Matt was fourteen by then and was left with only one other person in his life, his father's wife of the previous six years. Matt's only mother had died during childbirth and for years his dad doubted he'd ever remarry. He met a woman after their incident that changed all that.

For years after she and his father had been married, she'd pushed Matt into activities he had no interest in. She forced him to go to schools that he didn't want to go to. When his homework wasn't sufficient enough for her, she assigned him some of her own. He'd hated her more than any other person in the world and he had hated his dad for being with her.

Matt finished his shower and turned off the water. He pushed his thoughts aside in order to concentrate on the task at hand. He grabbed a towel that was hanging on a rack just outside the shower and toweled off. He returned to the large room and slipped into a pair of boxers from the dresser. After which he reentered the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth, combed his hair and shaved a day's growth from his face with an electric razor. Satisfied with his appearance in the mirror, he walked to the table in the large room.

Everything he would need for the day was carefully prepared and laid out. His form fitting jumpsuit, socks, a pair of combat boots, a thick black belt, complete with a modified gun holster and a pair of thin black leather gloves. These he quickly dressed himself in. Also arrayed was a cloth bag that contained a small can of spray paint, which he tied to his belt.

A stun baton was picked up and ignited, sending arcs of electricity down the length from tip to just above the handle. Most stun batons were just lengthened stun guns but he preferred this type, even if its maximum voltage was reduced. He released the trigger and slid it into his belt. It wouldn't be there long.

He quickly assembled a 9mm pistol and attached the silencer that lay nearby. He loaded a full clip of ammo, chambered a round and holstered it.

Finally, his most prized possession, the small electronic device that he wore on his left forearm almost constantly. He carefully placed it on his forearm and deftly connected the fasteners with his right hand.

He was ready yet he hesitated slightly. He swallowed and licked his lips. "It's just one more step on a journey," he told himself; a journey that began seventeen years earlier, shortly after the death of his father. A journey he began after he learned the truth about his life; about everything.

Not willing to delay the inevitable, he began punching keys on the device on his left arm. The small screen lit up and began to display an array of information. He made several quick configurations via the keypad, punched one final button and disappeared.

The entryway of the large Metropolis apartment was dim. The light had not yet been turned on and the sunlight was still blocked by the not yet drawn curtains and blinds from the many windows in the apartment.

Matt stepped forward, seemingly stepping out of nothingness. He turned and looked back at the door a few feet behind him. The deadbolt was secure and the security chain was still fastened. The alarm console continued to show that it was armed, ready to trigger if the door was disturbed.

He moved deeper into the apartment with the sure sense that he knew where his target was. He made no noise as he moved, he'd learned from one of the best. It was the easy part.

At the far end of the hall the tapping of keys could be heard. Matt quickly and silently retrieved the stun baton from his belt with his left hand and un-holstered the pistol with his right. Matt silently slipped inside the room and stopped a few feet behind the person sitting in front of a desk and laptop that was positioned against the far wall. It was only when he aimed the pistol and pulled the hammer back with his thumb did she become aware of his presence.

Pauline Kahn suddenly stopped typing. With her fingers still touching the laptop, she slowly began to turn.

"Don't move a muscle," Matt ordered.

Remaining eerily calm, Pauline said, "All the money I have is in my purse in the kitchen. Take everything you want."

"I'm not here for money," Matt stated coldly.

"Then, what do you want? How did you get in here?" Pauline asked, maintaining her composure.

"I'll be the only one asking questions this morning. You occasionally receive instructions to kill certain stories of leave out certain details. Other times you put your own version of the truth into them. Who sends you those instructions?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pauline said.

Matt flicked the switch on the stun baton, igniting it and swung it, hard. It connected side of her head and sent her spilling to the floor, her arms wrapping around her head to protect her from any further blows.

"I'm asking you again. Who sends you the instructions?"

"You're completely insane!" she screeched.

"Am I? Am I insane when I say that I just saw a fifty year old woman take a blow to the head from a stun baton, complete with 150,000 volts of electricity and she's not crying like a baby? You're more than you seem and I know more than you think I do."

"Whatever it is that you think you know; you're wrong," Pauline said, "You don't know nearly as much as you think you do."

Matt ignited the stun baton again. He stepped forward to swing again but he paused at the last moment, glancing at the laptop. He looked back at Pauline and said, "I'm betting that everything I need to know is on that laptop. Isn't it?"

Pauline glanced over at the laptop with a concerned look in her eyes before looking back at Matt. The look told Matt he was right and they both knew it.

"Having that won't change anything."

Matt smiled. "It doesn't matter. I'm not trying to change anything."

The pistol in Matt's hand barked twice and Pauline Kahn slumped to the floor.

He quickly holstered the pistol once more and placed the stun baton back in his belt. He went out into the apartment's large living room and removed a large painting from one wall. He tossed it aside without regard to any damage that may be done to it.

He quickly tapped a few keys on his forearm device and pulled up a symbol on the small screen. He studied it carefully as he retrieved the can of spray paint from the bag on his belt. Taking one more careful look, he then duplicated the symbol on the wall using the black spray paint. Once he was complete, he compared the two once more and felt satisfied with the results.

The symbol was meant as a message to two people, one of which was Clark Kent. The irony of the identity of the second person made Matt chuckle as he placed the spray paint back into the bag.

He returned to the entryway, unlocked and opened the front door. The still fully activated alarm system immediately began to beep. Matt knew in about a minute the security company would attempt to phone the apartment. When they would receive no response, they would notify the building's on-site security guard to investigate. It didn't matter much to Matt though. He would be long gone by then and so would the body of Pauline Kahn.

888888888

Clark opened the door to Chloe's apartment and stepped inside, with Chloe following close behind. The three hour drive from Wichita, while boring, had been made easier with talk of the new steps that they'd taken in their relationship. They had left Wichita in the late afternoon, having spent a more relaxing day with Pete and his mom.

Judge Ross had finished arranging everything for Clark's newly established identity shortly after breakfast. He now had all the necessary paperwork that he would need to get started in everyday life. Bernice's friend Andre would be contacting Clark later in the week once he had made the appropriate arrangements with the Daily Planet and Met U. Transcripts, prior work history, all of it would be fabricated but all of it would be provided by WITSEC. With a few exceptions, such as a driver's license, which would be easy for Clark to get now, and the SAT test which he had to take, the only thing Clark really had left to do was to start his new life. And part of that bothered him.

It bothered him that he was entrenching himself there and building a life that he didn't intend to keep. Yet Chloe's words rang true. He needed to accept the situation that he was in. He could seek to change it, but there was a difference between denial and acceptance and he was through being in denial, he decided.

"I'm exhausted," Chloe behind him as she dropped her bag to the floor.

"Me too," Clark said as he nodded sympathetically. He, of course, wasn't physically exhausted, but mentally the weekend had worn him out.

"Then I'm sure you won't mind when I say that I'm probably going to head for bed in a few minutes," Chloe said.

"No, that's fine. I'll probably head that way myself," Clark responded.

Chloe smiled and nodded. She stepped forward and hugged him. As he hugged her back she pecked him lightly on his lips. "I'll make up the couch for you," she said sweetly as she pulled away.

Clark nodded in thanks at first as she turned away to go get the sheets and pillows. Clark found himself staring at the couch for several seconds before saying, "You know… If you don't mind, maybe I'll sleep in the spare bedroom instead."

Chloe stopped and looked back at him, with one eyebrow raised. Clark just shrugged. "It's like you said. There's a difference between accepting things and being in denial. It doesn't really matter where I sleep after all."

"No, maybe not, but it did matter to you," Chloe said.

"I know," Clark said softly.

"Just make sure you're not giving up," Chloe said with concern.

Clark shook his head. "I'm not." He looked her in the eyes and said firmly, "I'm not."

"OK," she said. "I'll make up the spare bed then." She gave him a reassuring smile and winked at him before heading towards the spare bedroom.

Clark took off his glasses and set them on the counter in the kitchen. He was getting used to them more, but even after three weeks of wearing them, they were still a pain. Noticing a blinking light on the answering machine he called out, "Hey Chloe, you have a message."

"Go ahead and play it," Chloe called from the spare bedroom.

Clark tapped the Play button on the answering machine and began listening to the message.

"Chloe? It's Denise. Something's happened to Pauline Kahn. Her apartment was found broken into earlier this morning and she's nowhere to be found. The police aren't being any help because she's technically not missing until it's been a full 24 hours and other than the apartment being vandalized there wasn't any evidence of foul play. I just know something's wrong though. Unless by some miracle she does turn up, then obviously our staff meeting tomorrow is canceled. I'm emailing you with everything I have so far. There's a picture of some graffiti that was spray painted on her wall that I want you to research. Look for any connections to local gangs or anything like that. I'll be heading down to her building in the morning to see if anyone heard or saw anything."

The message ended with a beep. Clark turned and saw Chloe standing there, her face filled with surprise and concern.

"Isn't Pauline Kahn your editor?" Clark asked.

Chloe nodded as she hurried over to her computer. Her email at the Daily Planet was accessible over the web, which was very convenient for times like this.

"Who's Denise?" Clark asked.

"She's one of the Daily Planet reporters. She has me do research for her every so often. One of my many fun responsibilities as a news assistant: gopher and research slave to the full reporters" Chloe said wryly as she entered her username and password for the site. Sure enough, the email from Denise was waiting for her.

She read through email from Denise, which was a rehash of her message. Chloe opened the first of two attachments which was the incident report filed by the security company. She read through it and closed it. The second made her pause. It was a photograph of the graffiti spray painted on Pauline Kahn's wall but it didn't look anything like normal gang graffiti.

"Clark," she said, "what do you make of this?"

Clark approached and looked that picture on the screen. His stomach dropped and his mind started whirling. It wasn't graffiti like the message had said, it was a symbol. One that he was very familiar with.

Chloe glanced back at him when he didn't say anything. "Is something wrong?" she asked when she saw the look on his face.

"I think Matt left this Chloe," Clark said.

"What? What makes you say that?"

"The symbol… It's Kryptonian."

"What?" Chloe asked in shock. Clark just nodded.

"And you think that because he seems to know that you're a Kryptonian or at least knows that you're an alien, that he could be involved in this?"

Clark nodded again. "Plus, this may not be the last incident like this we'll see, judging from the meaning of that symbol."

"What does it say?" Chloe asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"It's the Kryptonian symbol for crusade."


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_January 2007  
Four Months Later_

"I'm sorry I haven't come to visit. Part of me thought it wouldn't matter if I did; that it wouldn't feel the same. I know that I was wrong, Dad." Clark said as he stood above the grave of Jonathan Kent. The surrounding cemetery was cold and there was a slight drizzle in the air that threatened to turn to freezing rain at any moment. The cold air didn't bother Clark, but the occasional droplet that landed on the lenses of his glasses did. He'd already had to wipe his glasses off with his handkerchief three times. Clark stood quiet for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. "So much has happened; I don't know where to start."

It was now one year to the day since his father died, or at least it would have been if he were in his own world. This Jonathan Kent had died two years earlier than his own dad, but it didn't matter to Clark, this was the closest he could come to his father at the moment.

Clark began speaking; just letting his thoughts tumble out. "It's been almost a year since I was home. The weeks and months have seemed to add up faster than I anticipated. I've searched the world looking for answers, but I'm still no closer to getting home. I honestly don't know what to do anymore.

"On top of that, Dad, Chloe and I think that the person responsible for this is responsible for all the disappearances that have been going on. There's no connection between any of them. I know I have to stop it, but I don't know how or where it might happen next."

There have been almost two dozen people who have gone missing in the past four months and all completely random people in various levels of the government, media, and civil services. There was no apparent link between any of them. Initially there had been two more in Metropolis in the week following Pauline Kahn, but then more turned up missing in other cities. The Kryptonian symbols were the only consistent clue and even those weren't much help. While initially the symbols were of doom and gloom, from crusade to fire. Lately the symbols had become more random though. Hope was left in the home of a person in Tokyo and the last few had been random Kryptonian letters.

"I just don't know what to do next," Clark said. "I know I need to get home to mom, but… Lately, I've been finding myself not able to concentrate while I'm researching. Either that or I'll just skip it altogether to spend time with Chloe. I love her Dad and I'm not sure how I'll leave her when the time comes." Clark stopped suddenly as he felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket.

He turned and unconsciously walked away from the grave while pulled the phone out and looked at the number shown on the tiny screen. It was Chloe. He flipped it open, brought it up to his said "Hi!" as he felt his gloomy spirits suddenly lift.

"Hi," said the sweet voice in response. "I was just calling to let you know I'm off work and was wondering if we were still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, of course. Your place or did you want to go out?" It felt funny for Clark to refer to it as just her place when it had been his home as well for almost a year. Soon after he started working at the Planet and was receiving a steady income, he had moved out. Living with her had initially been out of necessity, but he because of his upbringing he felt it only proper that he find a place of his own once he was able; especially with their relationship growing ever more serious. His mom and dad certainly wouldn't have approved and their influence on him was as strong as ever. It helped that it made it easier to meet with Chloe's father if they didn't also have to tell him that they were also living together. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, they had agreed.

"My place will be fine," Chloe responded. "Maybe you could pick up some Chinese food and a movie on your way here." She paused and then added with a giggle, "Just make sure the food is Chinese but not the movie. I'm not in the mood for another one of your Kung-fu flicks tonight." Clark stopped by a nearby tree and leaned his back up against it.

"Oh come on, Chloe. They're great," said Clark, smiling.

"Maybe for you. You taught yourself Chinese. Last time I was stuck watching a movie I didn't understand. The poorly translated subtitles didn't help a bit."

"Sounds like the last chick flick you made me watch. E though it was in English, I still didn't get it," Clark said with a laugh as he heard Chloe giggling on the other end as well.

"When can I expect you?" she asked.

"When I'm done here, I'll run and get the food," Clark answered. "I'm visiting my dad," he added a couple seconds later.

"Oh," Chloe said, slightly surprised. He hadn't told her he was going. He hadn't been if he would himself until the last moment, but something had told him that he needed to.

"Yeah," Clark said. "It was partially a spur of the moment. I'll explain it over dinner."

"Ok," Chloe said. "Well, then I'll see you in a little bit."

"Looking forward to it. I love you," Clark said.

"I love you, too. Bye," Chloe responded.

"Bye," Clark said as he brought the phone down and closed it. He held it tightly and stared at it as he thought about her. He did love her and it was causing a lot of confusion for him lately. Internal conflict would probably be more accurate.

Clark put the phone back in his pocket and pulled his glasses off his face. Slowly he wiped them clean with a handkerchief, yet again. So intent was he on thoughts of Chloe that he didn't notice that someone was approaching until they were about ten feet away. Even as Clark began to turn to see who was approaching, a lump caught in his throat and he had to swallow hard. He recognized her even before he saw her by the sound of her breath and heartbeat, by the scent in the air, and maybe by ways he couldn't explain. Part of him briefly hoped he was wrong, because he wasn't prepared. He wasn't wrong; his mom stood only a few feet away.

"Hello," Martha said. "I didn't expect to see anyone else out here on a day like this."

Feeling tongue tied, Clark slid his glasses back onto his face and shrugged. He glanced around as if looking to see if they were in fact they only two there. As it turned out, there was another individual, a man, standing over a grave a hundred yards away.

"Well, I…" was all Clark managed to say.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. It's just that my husband is buried here," she said as she gestured to Jonathon's grave.

"No—," Clark said. "No, it's no bother."

Martha nodded and extended her hand, "I'm Martha, by the way. I don't think I recognize you. Are you from Smallville?"

"Not really," Clark said. He took her hand and shook it gently. "I'm Clark."

Martha got a thoughtful look on her face. "I've always loved that name. It always seemed so sophisticated."

Clark felt himself grinning in response.

"Who are you visiting, if I may ask?" Martha asked.

Clark paused, weighing his answer. "No one in particular," he said while feeling bad about having to lie to her. When she looked at him funny, he expounded. "Well, you see, it's the anniversary of my father's death, but unfortunately I'm not able to visit his grave. So, since I can't visit him directly, I decided to come here." He hoped his explanation was believable enough, he wasn't sure if it made much sense himself.

Martha looked satisfied though, in fact she looked very sympathetic. "I'm sorry to hear that and I'm sorry for your loss."

Clark nodded and gave a quiet "Thank you."

"I'm not normally this nosey," Martha said, "but would you mind if I asked why you aren't able visit his grave?"

"It's complicated," Clark said, unable to think of a better response.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Martha said apologetically.

"No… its fine. Really." Clark said, reassuringly. He was about to change the subject when a thought occurred to him. He honestly wasn't sure when he might get to visit his mother again and he should take this opportunity to talk to her about what was on his mind. His mother and father were always reserved when he was growing up, but they were always willing to listen to the problems of others and offer help where they could. He was sure that this Martha was no different. While he couldn't tell her everything, he could tell her enough that she be able to muddle through the conflicted feelings he'd been having lately. So Clark began to talk.

"I don't really have the means to go home to my mom at this point," Clark said sadly. "And if or when I find the means, I won't be able to come back most likely."

"And that sounds like it's a problem," Martha stated.

"It wouldn't have been six months ago, but," Clark said. He hesitated before continuing, "Things have changed."

Martha gave him a knowing look. "And by the way you say that, I take it 'things' involve someone else."

Clark nodded as he looked at his shoes.

"Someone you love?" Martha said and appeared surprised at her own boldness after she said it.

Clark nodded again and added, "Very much."

"And I take it from your dilemma that normal correspondence is out of the question. Does she not approve of your choice?" Martha asked.

Clark hated to lie but felt he had no choice. "Something like that," he muttered.

Martha nodded understandingly and said, "I know it's not really my place to give you advice. However, it sounds similar to a situation I went through when I was your age."

Clark raised his eyebrow. "Really?" he asked.

Martha nodded again. "My parents didn't approve of Jonathan, my husband. I was given an ultimatum: I could either have him in my life or them. I love my parents dearly and we've managed to patch things up the past couple of years but, I knew that Jonathan was someone special and I was ready to spend my life with him. There really wasn't a choice."

Clark let the words sink in. "I guess I'm having difficulties letting go of that portion of my life," he said.

"I understand. It shouldn't be easy," Martha said.

"Did you ever regret that decision?" Clark asked.

"I regretted not being able to talk to my parents every day from that point on," Martha said. "But I never regretted choosing to be with Jonathan."

"Sounds like he was a special guy."

Martha could only nod as she gently wiped her eyes.

"Tell me about him," Clark prodded gently. "If that's ok with you."

Martha smiled through her moist eyes and nodded. "He was kind and gentle man; a good man…."

* * *

Matt discreetly observed Clark as he spoke with Martha Kent from a distance. He was unable to hear what was being said, but it didn't really matter. However the image of Clark standing by the grave of Jonathan Kent and speaking with Martha Kent had more of an effect on him than he had anticipated.

_Matt approached his father's hospital bed slowly. It was hard to see his father this way, weak and exhausted, the life almost gone from him. He glanced over his shoulder. His step-mother was consulting with the doctor, her eyes clearly puffy from many shed tears. He turned his attention back to his father who gave him a weak smile._

_"Hi Matt," his father said faintly._

_"Hi Dad," Matt said, tears already welling up._

_"I'm sorry but don't think I'm going to make it to your graduation."_

_"Its okay, Dad," Matt said as the broke free and ran freely down his cheeks. He would be graduating high school in two months; about four years ahead of schedule. Truth be told, Matt knew he could have graduated even earlier than what he was._

_"Take care of your mother for me. You both are going to need each other's support."_

_Matt nodded. "I'll try, but we don't get along, Dad. I don't know if we can."_

_His dad grasped his hand weakly. "Just try," he said. "She's only wanted what was best for you; too help you be the best you can be. She's made her mistakes on the way, but so did I. You were just harder on her for hers. But that doesn't matter anymore. It'll be hard for you, I know, but please try. For me."_

_Again, Matt nodded. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his step-mother._

_"The doctor says he needs to give your dad some pain medicine to help him sleep. I'm going to take you home so you can sleep too then I'll come back and stay with him," she said to him._

_"I want to stay here too," Matt said, defiantly._

_"Please, let your mother take you home, Matt," he heard his father say._

_Matt looked from his father to his step-mother and back again. He nodded, kissed his dad on his forehead and left the room. He didn't know what else to do. At that moment he had a feeling that it would be the last time he spoke to his father._

_He was right._

Matt understood now why he was taken home that night. His father hadn't wanted him to have to watch him pass; to carry that memory with him for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure if he would have done differently if he had been in his father's shoes.

Matt returned to school shortly after the funeral. It was an out of state, private boarding school. One of the best and had unique programs for people of his intelligence. His step-mother had wondered if he had wanted more time, but he insisted. At that point he still wasn't sure how to deal with her. So much of problems he felt he had, he had been laying at her feet for so long that he couldn't stop all at once and get along just because his father asked him too.

When his graduation came and she attended, then she brought him home. Matt became increasingly aware how hard it was for her as well. Matt remembered that he hid out in his room when he had returned home.

The day where he finally began to make peace with his step-mother came about two weeks after his return. It proved to be not only a fresh start for him and his step-mother but the beginning of his journey that brought him to where he was now.

_"Matt, are you in there?" Matt heard his step-mother say through the door to his room._

_"Yes," he called out._

_"I was thinking maybe we could go see a movie or something. You know, maybe get out of the apartment for a little bit."_

_Matt sat on his bed and stared out the window of his apartment window, just watching the sun slide down the sky over the Metropolis skyline. "No, thanks."_

_There was a pause. "Matt, can I come in?"_

_"Whatever," he said as he sighed._

_The door opened and his step-mother entered. She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of his bed, not far from him. He didn't look at her._

_"How long are we going to do this, Matt?" she asked._

_"Do what?" he responded._

_"Play this avoidance game?"_

_Matt shrugged, not turning from the view outside the window._

_"Please. I want us to be able to get along. I know we haven't seen eye to eye, but none of that matters now."_

_Matt nodded and said, "Fine, we'll get along." He knew it came across as rude but he didn't care._

_His step-mother paused and then said, "Well if you don't want to spend time with me, then maybe you could call a friend or to and spend some time with them. Invite someone over and I'll buy pizza."_

_Matt shook his head disgustedly. "Invite who?"_

_"What to do you mean?" she asked._

_Matt turned his head and looked at her for the first time. "Invite who, I said. I don't have any friends."_

_"What do you mean you don't have any friends? You have several in this building alone."_

_"No I don't," Matt said, his voice raising. "I have several people that I know in this building that I've barely seen the past few years because I've been away at school. I have several people that I won't have much in common with because they're just entering high school next year while I'm heading off to college. I don't have any friends."_

_"I'm sorry Matt. I-,"_

_He cut her off. "No you're not. You were the one that sent me to that school. I didn't want to go."_

_"Matt, your father and I made that decision together. We felt it was best-," she said before he cut her off again._

_"Best? Best for who?" he yelled._

_His step-mother remained calm and kept her voice soft. "Best for you Matt. You have so much potential, more than you realize. None of the schools here in town could give you what you needed."_

_"And who cares about how I feel, right?" Matt yelled._

_"No, Matt. That's not true. Your father and I cared."_

_"Well you could have fooled me."_

_"Please Matt. I don't want it to be this way. I don't want to have this animosity between us and neither did your father."_

_Even as he was yelling he knew he was being somewhat unreasonable, but long pent up anger fueled him forward anyway. However, the mention of his father brought a sudden calm to Matt._

_He looked back out the window. "Maybe it will get better with time."_

_His step-mother sighed. "I'm not sure how much time we have Matt," she said._

_Matt turned to her suddenly. "What do you mean?"_

_"I have something to tell you."_

_"What?"_

_She sighed again and stood. "I-," she began and then stopped. She was clearly thinking over her next words. "Maybe it would be better if I showed you."_

_Quickly she turned and left the room. A few minutes later she returned carrying a fireproof box that she strained her as she set it on Matt's desk with a loud thud._

_Matt stood up as she pulled a key from her pocket and opened it up. He had seen the box several times but had never known the contents. His step-mother and dad had always avoided any questions about it. Even the occasional search for the key had proven fruitless._

_His step-mother reached inside and pulled out a thick folder which she set on the desk in front of him. Matt reached out and made to flip open the folder; glancing at his step-mother for approval as he did so. She nodded and he did._

_Displayed prominently on top was a newspaper clipping that had a picture of him as a boy. It was from the day he was rescued from the collapsed building._

_"I have something tell you about the day you were rescued," his step-mother said as she put her hand on his shoulder. "You weren't imagining what you said you saw."_

_Matt looked back at her, not believing her words. He had been told so many times that he had imagined the circumstances that he had begun believing it himself. "How do you know?" he asked, surprised._

_"There's something else inside the box," she responded softly._

_He cautiously peered into the box. He couldn't see the object fully, but he instantly knew what it was; it was unmistakable. His head whipped back and looked at her. "Where did you get that?"_

_She stared at him for several seconds. "Because Matt, I was there."_

Matt's recollections were broken as he saw Clark and Martha appear to say goodbye. Clark began to walk away, leaving Martha standing by the grave of her husband.

Matt began walking in the direction that would quickly intersect Clark's path. It was time Clark and him to meet.

* * *

Clark listened as Martha described her deceased husband. It was therapeutic to hear her talk about him and he felt that it may be for her as well. When she finished, he thanked her for their talk. "I should probably be going now and I'm sure you want some time alone," he told her.

She nodded. "Thank you. It was nice meeting you Clark."

He nodded as well and shook her hand and began walking away. He walked briskly, planning on heading just out of eyesight before he would turn on his full speed. He quickly became aware that the third person in the cemetery also appeared to be leaving. As they passed within ten feet of each other, Clark glanced over at the man and nodded in greeting. The man nodded back.

Clark continued on, his thoughts already turning to his evening planned with Chloe when he heard the man begin speaking.

"Mothers… You know, there aren't any words to describe how much they shape us," a voice from behind Clark said.

Clark turned and looked at the man. "Excuse me?" he asked.

The man gestured to Martha and said, "I was talking referring to Martha Kent there and her or at least her counter-part's influence on you, Clark."

Clark stared at the man in silence, noting the blond hair and his approximate age and recalled the description Chloe had given him a few months back. "Matt," he stated simply.

Matt nodded with just a slight hint of a smile.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"What do you want?" Clark asked Matt, his anger and agitation rising.

"Let's walk for a minute, Clark," Matt responded. "And I'd recommend keeping your distance." As he finished speaking, Matt withdrew a large green rock from his trench coat pocket, allowed Clark a quick glance at it before placing it back in his pocket.

Furiously, Clark nodded as Matt motioned in the direction he had already been walking. At least it would lead them away from Martha, Clark thought as he began to walk. Matt trailed about ten feet behind. Clark felt confident that he could get away if he needed to but he was content to let things play out for the moment.

Finally, after walking for a couple of minutes, Clark stopped and turned to face Matt. "Enough of this. Tell me what you want."

There was a look of amusement in Matt's eyes that didn't quite seem to touch the rest of his face. He gave a nonchalant shrug and asked, "Why do you think I want anything? Perhaps I'm just here to check and see how you're doing."

"Don't patronize me, Matt," Clark snapped. "What is it you want with me? Why are you doing all of this? Is this some attempt at revenge for something I did?"

"Do you truly believe that I, that anyone, would go through all of this just for revenge?" Matt asked with a sincere voice.

Some of Clark's anger faded. In a softer voice, he asked again, "Then why did you bring me here?"

"How old were you when you found out who you really were?" Matt asked, seemingly ignoring Clark's question. Clark didn't answer him so Matt continued. "You were fourteen years old; a young man and plenty old enough to accept the truth. Instead you spent the next five years moping and secluding yourself."

Clark shook his head as he spoke, "You could never understand."

"I was fourteen also when I found out that I would never have a normal life. Even then I made a choice and set out on a path that has led me to here today."

"And did that path have anything to do with Pauline Kahn? Or with the others that disappeared?" Clark snapped.

Matt got a strange look in his eyes. Clark wasn't sure but it almost looked like a hint of sadness. He didn't have much time to think about as Matt answered him, "The fates of Pauline Kahn and the others were sealed long before I was forced to act."

Clark scoffed in response. "I don't buy that. You talk about fates and paths as if you didn't have a choice in the matter. It's why I don't believe in destinies. It's nothing more than saying you don't have a choice and you always have a choice."

"You have a point Clark but it's misguided. No one ever fulfilled their destiny without making the choice to do so. Yet for your talk of choices, the only one you've made so far is to do nothing. Well the thing about choices is that left undecided long enough, it gets taken away from you or made for you. Here and now, I'm telling you that you'd better do what you should have been doing all along. Prepare yourself. Learn your powers as best you can because you're going to perform a task for me, Clark, and it's not going to be an easy one."

Clark shook his head defiantly and said, "I'm not going to do anything for you."

Matt looked at Clark intently. "I know you. I know your weaknesses and I know what will motivate you to act. I could just point out that loved ones will suffer if you don't. But while that is true, I'll simply point out the ironic thing. You won't be able to stop yourself from helping me."

"No. I'll find a way to stop you."

Matt chuckled. "You're reactionary Clark. You're rarely prepared. You always win because your enemies are just woefully unprepared for you." Matt suddenly grew deadly serious. "That's not the case this time. I've been preparing for the past sixteen years for this. I've been being prepared for the past twenty-five years. It's too late. You're already in too deep. The only way to end it is to see it through to the end."

Angry at Matt's words Clark took a step towards him before he stopped himself. Something was wrong. Even at this distance from Matt, Clark should at least be able to feel the presence of the kryptonite in Matt's pocket. He couldn't. In fact, he hadn't felt the presence of kryptonite the whole time.

Clark glanced at Matt's pocket and quickly scanned it with his x-ray vision. Whatever it was in his pocket, it definitely wasn't kryptonite. Clark suddenly felt foolish. He had given Matt the upper hand by not scanning it earlier. However, he resolved to worry about his mistakes later.

Clark watched Matt closely, waiting for just the right moment. His perceptions quickened as Matt began to blink. Clark listened carefully and heard the steady rhythm of Mat's heart as it slowed to one long continuous thump. Matt's eyes fully closed in mid blink and then Clark moved, darting towards Matt at super-speed.

At about five feet away Clark resolved to pick Matt up and carry into the next county in order to surprise the heck out of him. Then he intended to have a long talk with Matt about everything he's done.

When Clark was about three feet from him Matt's heart rate suddenly jumped from the long continuous thump to that of the rapid sound of a drum roll. Matt's eyes snapped open and met Clark's gaze and arched his eyebrow.

Even with so short of a distance left and at the speed he was moving, Matt suddenly appeared to be faster as he took several steps back from Clark. Clark continued to move towards him even as Matt raised his right arm and started tapping on some strange device that he wore on his left forearm. Matt gave him a smile as Clark's hand reached out and came within inches of Matt before he suddenly disappeared.

Clark stopped suddenly from the shock of what he had just seen. He slowly turned in a full circle, using his powers to search for any sign of where Matt may have gone. There was none. Then suddenly Clark heard a heartbeat not far behind him. Whipping around he saw Matt standing about 10 feet away holding the fake kryptonite in his left hand and a mischievous smile painted on his face.

Nonchalantly, Matt tossed the green rock at Clark who deftly caught it and crushed it in one fluid motion.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out my ruse," Matt said. "I can't say that I'm not disappointed though. Still, perhaps you've learned a little lesson in all of this Clark."

"And what lesson is that Matt?" Clark said, challengingly.

"Find your own truth, Clark," Matt replied. "Your enemies are always less than they would like you to believe. No one is undefeatable. It's only a question of how far you are willing and able to go to defeat them."

"Does that go for you?" Clark asked. "Are you less than you seem?"

Matt raised his eyebrow and asked simply, "Am I your enemy Clark?"

The question took Clark aback but only for a second. "You threaten Chloe and those close to me and then you ask that?" Clark growled.

"Have I?" Matt asked softly, interrupting Clark. Again Clark was surprised by the question, but Matt didn't give him time to respond this time. "Be ready Clark. The trials you have faced so far are nothing compared to what is to come."

"Damn it, Matt. What's going on?"

"Goodbye Clark,"

"You know, I do have one thing figured out Matt," Clark said as Matt had begun tapping on the buttons of his forearm device.

Matt paused and looked expectantly at him without saying anything.

"You said that you want me to do something from you. People only set this type of thing for those things they can't do for themselves or when they don't want to get caught. I don't think getting caught is a concern for you so that just leaves the first option. What is it that you can't do for yourself? What is so big that you would go through all of this just to have me do something for you?"

Matt smiled as he gently tapped his right temple. "Now you're getting it Clark," Matt said. Then he punched one more button on the strange device and disappeared.

* * *

Chloe stood in the spare bedroom staring at the wall plastered with news clippings taken from the past few months. It was all the articles from newspapers around the world talking about the disappearances and the Kryptonian symbols that baffled all that were left behind. She and Clark were only just beginning to make sense of it.

While the disappearances were seemingly random, there were some startling similarities. All were single men or women. Most were known to be completely consumed by were and had generally been influential members of the profession, whether it be the media, business or government. Yet even though they were influential, almost all reportedly had few friends and none that were close. They were recluse in their social lives. It painted a curious picture and one that Chloe wished she understand better.

Chloe banished thoughts of the disappearances when she heard a knock at the door, followed by the sound of the door opening. It was Clark's knock.

As happy as she was to see him, she instantly became concerned as soon as she saw him. He gave her a weak smile but it was obvious that something was bothering him.

"Is everything okay," she asked as she stepped close and gave him a hug.

Clark managed to return the hug, in spite of holding a brown paper bag containing their food in one hand and a couple of movies in the other. "It is now," he joked.

Chloe pulled back and looked at him concerned. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Clark sighed. "Where to start…," he said softly. "I spoke with both my mother and with Matt."

"What?!?" Chloe asked in shock. "Matt? Your mom?"

Clark just nodded. He held up the food and motioned to the kitchen and then motioned with his head that they should take the conversation to the other room.

Once in the kitchen, Clark began to withdraw several of Chinese food from the bag. He earned a groan from Chloe.

"Come on Clark. Spill it."

Clark shrugged. "I had a nice talk with my mother and then I had a rather intense conversation with Matt."

"Start from the beginning," Chloe said, prodding him for more.

Clark stopped what he was doing and then after a moment, turned to Chloe. "Listen, I'll tell you all about it over dinner but there is something that I wanted to say to you first."

The look on his face left little doubt of its importance and thoughts of his mother and of Matt quickly fled from Chloe's head.

"Chloe, ever since I got here you've been completely supportive of me. You gave me a place to stay. You've helped me in my search to find a way home. You helped me establish an identity. You've been there for me every time I needed you, even though you had no reason to be."

"Clark, I--" Chloe started to say, before Clark raised his hand to quiet her.

"Please. Let me say what I need to say." He waited for her to nod and then he continued. "But more than that Chloe, you helped me to find peace with who I am. I love you Chloe and I don't ever want to lose you."

Chloe gently wiped a small tear appearing in her right eye as Clark continued. "Even though I know you feel the same, you've continued to help me in my search to find a way home. Up until now, I think we've both just been wanting to live in the moment and not have to deal with what may come. Well, I can't do that anymore. I've been thinking about this for a while now, but after talking to my mom, I feel right about it. Now more than ever."

Chloe bit her lip, unsure what he was about to say next. Clark looked at her intently and said. "I've decided to stay Chloe. I'm not going to spend anymore time looking for a way home. This is my home now. With you."

"What? But, Clark?" Chloe stammered. A thousand questions race through her head. What about his family, his friends back home… She asked as much.

Clark embraced her. "I'll miss them, Chloe. I do miss them every day. But today, my mom reminded me that she once left behind the life she knew for the man she loved. There are a lot of things that I'm unsure of, but I am sure that I love you enough to do the same."

Chloe couldn't speak, she was choked up. So instead she gave Clark a lingering kiss on his lips. "I love you, too," she was finally able to say after the kiss broke.

The rested their foreheads together as they stared into each other's eyes. After a moment, Clark said, "I'll get rid of all my research. I don't need it anymore."

Chloe shook her head. "No." Clark gave her a puzzled look so she continued. "Don't get me wrong, Clark. I love you and I'm happy you're staying. But what if it doesn't work out? I don't want you to get rid of all your work and then regret it later."

"But Chloe," Clark began to protest before Chloe put her hand on his chest to silence him.

"Please Clark. Don't get rid of it. Just pack it up. Just in case. Okay?"

Reluctantly, Clark nodded. Chloe smiled brightly in return.

"Now," she said, "tell me about the conversation with your mother and with Matt."

* * *

Matt appeared on the balcony of the uptown Metropolis apartment. Casually he tapped on the glass before opening the sliding glass door and stepping inside. As he closed the door behind him he took notice of the two place settings on the table before him, as well as several large rolls of paper, each bound in a rubber band.

A women in her late forties appeared from kitchen. She smiled and spoke. "Right on time, as usual, Matt."

Matt approached her and gave her a peck on her cheek with a smile. "Hi, mom," he said.

"Have a seat. I'll have dinner on the table in just a moment."

"Let me help," Matt insisted but his mother shooed him away. With nothing else to do he sat down.

"How are things going?" his mother asked from the kitchen.

"I just got done meeting with Clark at the cemetery," Matt said.

"Good," his mother said, though she sounded distracted as she was putting the finishing touches on whatever she was making. Finally she reappeared with a plate of food in each hand. She set one in front of Matt and the other in front of herself. "Everything went as expected?" she asked casually.

Matt nodded.

His mom nodded also. "Good. Then there is something you need to know before the next step."

Matt looked at her questioningly. "What?"

"You're not going to like it," she said with all seriousness.

"Just tell me."

His mom gestured over to the large rolls of paper. Matt looked at her questioningly and then picked one up and quickly rolled rubber band down to the end and removed it. He carefully spread the large paper out on the remaining portion of the table. It was the technical schematics of a Hercules C-130 cargo plane. He glanced back at his mother with another questioningly look before its significance hit him.

"No," Matt said, objecting.

His mother just nodded as she began eating. She casually swallowed her food and then spoke. "I've gone over it a hundred times and I can't think of any other way for it to happen.

Matt looked at the schematic, his anger rising. "I didn't want this Mom."

"None of us did, but we still have to do our part," she responded.

Matt could only swear in response.

* * *

Major General Sam Lane was not a man got nervous anymore. As a young lieutenant he had faced death during the Vietnam War and served with distinction. He endured the death of his wife and responsibility of raising two daughters on his own. He looked death in the eyes again during the Gulf War, leading his men gallantly and turning an ambush by the Republican Guard into a route. He had seen the worst life could throw at him. No, there was nothing in life that could get him nervous anymore.

Yet, As General Lane glanced at the man seated across from him and he felt something; anxiousness perhaps. Not at this man, though many would feel anxious in his presence, but at the message he was about to deliver.

The room they sat in was small with large frosted glass panes serving as walls and a ceiling. The room itself resided in a much larger room on sub-Level 5 of the Pentagon. It was soundproof and protected from electronic eavesdropping by the most state of the art technology the US government had to offer. To say that the meeting was top secret was an understatement.

"Well, what do you have for me Sam?" the man asked.

General Lane slowly flipped open the folder that sat on the table in front of him. He hesitated slightly for a moment longer, not wanting to begin, but knew he was just delaying the inevitable.

He softly cleared his throat. "I'm afraid the situation appears to be far worse than we originally feared, Mr. President."


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_May 2009_

_Two Years Later_

Clark gently pushed open the door as he exited his apartment building. A strong gust of wind whipped his necktie and windbreaker about and nearly slammed the door behind him as he moved briskly down the few steps to street level. As he walked Clark he adjusted the glasses on his face and then zipped up his jacket up part way, tucked his tie inside and zipped it up the rest of the way. He hated wearing a tie on days like this but at least his assignments for the day allowed him to go a little more casual than normal. The khakis that he wore with his light blue shirt were much more comfortable than the starched white shirt and the two piece suits that he usually wore to work.

Clark soon slowed his pace as he approached the newspaper stand that stood at the end of the block. Its owner waved as he saw Clark approach and then held up a copy of the Planet with a large smile on his face.

"Hey, Frank," Clark said as he returned the smile.

"Hey, Mr. Kent. I saw your article this morning. Great stuff," Frank said as he offered Clark the copy that he held.

"Thanks, Frank," Clark said as he reached out and took the offered paper. He folded it in half and tucked it under his left arm. But as he reached in his back pocket for his wallet, Frank waved him off.

"No charge today, Mr. Kent. My way of saying congratulations," Frank said.

It was Clark's first front page article. The first of many, he told himself happily, now that he had graduated from college and been promoted to full reporter.

"Thanks again," Clark said. Clark then glanced up at the partly cloudy sky and asked, "This is supposed to all clear up later, right?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah, probably by early afternoon. It should end up being a nice day."

"Glad to hear it," Clark said. "Chloe and I will be covering the air show all afternoon and the last thing I need is miserable weather."

At the mention of Chloe's name Frank asked, "How is your lady friend, by the way? Everything going ok?"

Clark scrunched his face a little. "For the most part. I mean, she's obviously excited about the promotion, but the Inquisitor situation has her a bit stressed."

"Understandable. Any plans on how to handle it?"

Clark shrugged. "She's meeting with Perry this morning to discuss a couple options I guess. We're going to meet at the show so I'll find out what's going on then."

Frank nodded. "Well, keep me informed. I plan on being able to sell more papers once you two hit your stride," he said with a grin.

Clark returned the grin. "Thanks and I will."

Clark gave a wave, which Frank returned and then turned to hail one of the many taxis that helped to fill the busy Metropolis street. He made a point to be seen getting in and out of the occasional taxi in order to keep up appearances.

Soon he was climbing in to the backseat of a taxi. As he gave the driver the address for the interview he had scheduled for the morning, he glanced at his watch. He withheld a smile at knowledge that he was most likely going to be late. His constant lateness was another aspect of his image that he purposefully kept up.

As the taxi pulled away from the curb, his thoughts turned to Chloe and her meeting with Perry. He hoped everything would work out for her.

* * *

The Metropolis Air Show was a yearly event held at nearby Grant Air Force Base. Thousands came every year to witness the awesome aerial displays and for the chance to get a close up and personal look at the large variety of military hardware. It was a huge PR boost for the Air Force the other branches as well. One could almost say that you couldn't purchase that type of PR, but Matt knew that was clearly not the case. Several million dollars could and did so every year and obviously the military felt those millions were money well spent. 

Matt made his way through the bustling crowd. It was in the early afternoon and though the wind occasionally kicked up, it was quite nice out. Thankfully, it was still cool enough that a few people were still wearing jackets so Matt was able to conceal the device he wore on his wrist without looking suspicious.

There rows and rows of tents, lined back to back, set up where various vendors peddled their wares. One tent in particular caught Matt's eye. Its purpose was to make the most of another of the hidden benefits to the air show: recruitment. Several Air Force recruiters skillfully lured young men and women into their tent where they discussed many of the career options available within the Air Force. You men and women not long out of high school and college were particularly targeted. As one door closes another one opens, Matt thought, thinking of his own past.

_Matt stepped towards center stage as he heard his name called. He paid little attention to the list of accolades that the dean listed afterwards; he was well aware of them and gave him slight embarrassment. Each of the half dozen listed seemed to further accentuate to the gathered audience the one accolade that went unsaid, that he was clearly the youngest person that would be participating in commencement that day. Matt realized that he was more self conscious at that moment, receiving a PhD in physics at age eighteen, than he had been when he had received his Bachelor's Degree two years earlier._

_Matt shook the dean's hand as he received the rolled paper that was wrapped in a gold ribbon. He forced a smile, said thank you and walked to the end of the stage. His mother was waiting near the end of the stage and snapped a couple pictures as she stood near the professional photographer that took the official picture that each graduate would have the option to purchase. He winked at her and she smiled back. Even twenty feet away Matt could make out the moist eyes that she exhibited though. It was a mixture of feelings for her, as it was for Matt himself. He knew she was overjoyed at his accomplishment but they both wished his father was there to share it with them. _

_Matt returned to his seat and waited for the rest of the doctorates to be distributed. The past four years had changed his relationship with his mom. Gone were most of the arguments that had once taken place almost daily. She was still demanding, but Matt understood better as to why and it no longer bothered him. He understood that she only wanted him to be his best and he used it now, to push himself forward. _

_It wasn't just in academics that his mother pushed him now. Truth be told, he could have graduated a year or two earlier. However, his mother said that there was other training that she felt would be good for him as well so he had taken year off school to focus on more physical and survival training. His mom's network of friends never ceased to amaze him and she recruited quite a few to help train him. There was always a veil of secrecy over everything though. Often he knew little more than the first names of his teachers and even then he wondered if the name he knew was genuine. _

_Commencement ended and Matt made his way through the crowd to his mother. She gave him what was probably the tenth hug from her that day and gave him another congratulation. Her eyes were still moist and so Matt voiced what they were both thinking, "I wish he were here too."_

_His mother nodded and gave him another hug. Then she wiped her eyes with a tissue and said bravely, "No more crying for me. He'd want us to enjoy the day."_

_Matt nodded in agreement. Wanting to change the subject, he held of his doctorate and absently asked, "So here we are… Now, where do I go from here?" He chuckled after he asked as he knew she was no more aware of the answer than he was. They both knew there were things he had to do in the days and years ahead, but they had no idea how he would accomplish them._

_Matt's mom shrugged and responded, "I'm sure we'll figure it out soon enough," she said reassuringly. Matt nodded._

_A buzzing sound erupted from Matt's mom's purse. She looked at him apologetically, but he nodded to her to show that it was ok. She quickly pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She gave him the "it will be just a minute" look that he was very used too. He chuckled tapped on his watch in as if he really was going to time her. She smiled in return before stepping away to answer it. _

_It was only a few seconds later that Matt heard a voice behind him say, "Congratulations, Dr. Ryder." Matt turned and although he didn't recognize the voice he half expected to see a classmate or perhaps a faculty member. He was wrong._

_Matt recognized the man that stood before him even though they had never met. Of course, Matt had seen him on TV and on magazine covers enough times that there was little way he wouldn't recognized Lionel Luthor. _

"_Uh, thank you. Mr. Luthor," Matt said, almost stammering out of surprise. Luckily his mother's ability to quickly compose herself in any situation had rubbed off on him and he quickly remembered his manners. He thrust his hand forward. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir," he said as Lionel Luthor took his hand and shook it firmly._

"_The honor is all mine," Lionel responded. "It's not often I meet someone as brilliant as yourself."_

"_Thank you sir," Matt said in a modest tone._

"_Please, call me Lionel," Lionel said. "And I'm sure you'll be surprised to know that I've read a couple of your research papers. Most impressive"_

_Matt eyes widened somewhat. "That is a surprise," Matt said. "My papers usually either put people to sleep or earn me the ridicule of those who do manage it finish them."_

_Lionel chuckled. "Yes, well, I had a couple of experts in my employ and they, unfortunately, mostly fell neatly into the latter group."_

_Matt shrugged. "Sometimes two people can look at the same data and research and come up with two different theories," he said unapologetically. _

"_Yes, well, I won't say that I will understand everything but I know genius when I see it. In fact, that is why I am here today."_

_Matt looked at Lionel questioningly as he waited for him to continue._

"_There is a project that my company is working on; one that is, in my opinion, clearly off track. Its unacceptable to me, as you can imagine. It needs new ideas to get it back on track and I think that you may just be the person to bring those ideas to the table."_

_Matt was shocked but kept a cool head. Several questions ran through his head at once but he asked what he felt was the most important first. "Why would Luthor Corp, which as far as I'm aware is pretty much an agricultural company, have need of a quantum physicist?"_

_Lionel smiled and leaned forward as if he didn't want to be heard. In a lowered voice he said, "Luthor Corp is a very large corporation with many subsidiaries. We hold many government contracts. I assure you, we can utilize your skills quite nicely. In fact, many of those contracts are on projects rated top secret so you will not have an opportunity like this anywhere else."_

_Matt kept his face straight, though he wondered if this was the opportunity that he was looking for. "I'd be interested in hearing what you have to offer, Mr. Luthor. _

_Lionel withdrew a card from his pocket and offered it to Matt. "Wonderful. Take my card. The number on the back is my personal cell phone. My assistant will be in contact to setup a meeting so that we can discuss things in more detail, however I want you to contact me directly with any questions." _

_Mat nodded as he took the card. He then offered Lionel a handshake, which Lionel accepted, firmly. _

"_Good day, Dr. Ryder," Lionel said and then disappeared into the crowd._

_Matt stared at the card. He wasn't for sure this is where he needed to go next, but his gut told him that perhaps it was. Sure, he knew what type of person Lionel truly was, but in this he would be a means to an end._

* * *

"Thanks Lois," Chloe said before she pulled the phone from her ear and snapped it shut. She glanced at her watch, frustrated as she noted that Clark was late, as usual. The air show was in full swing around her and Clark was supposed to have met her almost half an hour ago, right after the interviews he had that morning. 

She sighed. She shouldn't take out her frustration on Clark, she was just angry at her current predicament. The meeting with Perry that earlier that morning had not gone as expected and her subsequent conversations with her dad and Lois hadn't helped as much as she hoped.

She heard someone clear their throat behind her and then heard the words, "Hey beautiful." She turned and saw Clark, looking sheepish. "Sorry I'm late," he said.

"It's fine, Clark," she said, a little too roughly.

"Is something wrong, Chloe?" Clark asked in a concerned voice.

She nodded and then moved into his arms and hugged him tight as she attempted to fight back tears. Clark gently held her back, allowing her to take a few moments.

Finally she released him and pulled back. "I take it the meeting didn't go well," Clark stated.

Chloe shook her head. "They actually polled a focus group and didn't like the results. The idiots in the focus group thought that she and I were the same person."

Clark would know exactly who she meant when she said "she." Chloe E. Sullivan, a reporter who had been writing for the Inquisitor for the past year. She'd quickly made her name for sensational tabloid stories. That obviously presented a problem for Chloe, who continued to work in the basement of the Daily Planet trying to make a name for herself. She'd laughed it off the first time she was mistaken for Chloe E. Sullivan of the Inquisitor, but as it happened more and more whenever she introduced herself as a reporter, she could no longer laugh anymore. Not that she could blame people. What were the odds that there would be two Chloe Sullivan's working for competing newspapers in the same city?

"So what do they want to do?" Clark said, obviously growing more concerned.

"They suggested taking a pen name?"

"What?" Clark asked flabbergasted.

Chloe nodded.

"They can't make you do that," Clark said.

"No they can't," Chloe said, "but they can keep me from being a reporter," she said.

"What?" Clark asked, growing angry. "But they already offered you a job."

"That was before upper management got the results of the focus group. Perry says he wishes there was something he could do. He says he's on my side, but his hands are tied."

"Oh, Chloe. I'm sorry. I know how much you've always wanted to see your byline on the front page of the Planet," Clark said as he wrapped Chloe in another hug.

Chloe could only nod as she concentrated, unsuccessfully, on fighting back tears. After a moment she pulled back and wiped her eyes.

"I suppose it's not the end of the world," she said bravely. "I still have the job I've always wanted. I have been waiting for this most of my life after all."

Clark nodded. "So, have you thought of what you'll call yourself," he said smiling, in an attempt to cheer her up.

"I have, but I need to think on it for a while. It's just too much for one day, you know?"

Clark nodded. "Well, I'm here to help.

Chloe nodded in return and then wiped her eyes one last time and let out a groan. "I'm not going to spend all day feeling sorry for myself. I've been looking forward to spending this time with you all week and I don't want anything to ruin it. So let's not talk about it anymore.

"Ok," Clark said as he stepped back. He then swept his hand out, motioning to the dozens of tents. "Where do you want to start? I'm sure you're just itching to shop a little, what with your big promotion and all."

"Our big promotions," Chloe said, correcting him.

Clark smiled and took her hand. "Our big promotions. Now come on, I'll buy you a funnel cake."

"Those things are pure calories," she objected.

"Oh come on, they're great."

"Easy for you to say. You don't have to worry about gaining weight. For me it's a minute on the lips, forever on the hips."

"Well, I'm still going to get one. As you said, I don't have to worry about it."

Chloe just stuck her tongue out him as he led her over to a line in front of one of the many food vendors.

"Oh," she said. "I almost forgot. Lois is engaged!"

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't think her and Jose were that serious."

Chloe shrugged, "Well, don't repeat this but part of me wonders if she isn't doing it because the General wouldn't approve of his daughter marrying someone who's only a schoolteacher."

"Now that does sound like Lois."

Chloe just giggled in response.

After a moment of waiting the line had cleared and Clark approached the counter.

"What can I get for you?," the man behind the counter asked.

"Apple cinnamon funnel cake," Clark responded in a soft voice. It was always hard for Chloe not to laugh when he slipped into ultra shy and quiet mode, because to her it seemed so obvious that it was an act because she knew him. Everyone always bought it though.

"Say again, I didn't catch that, sir," the man said, leaning forward.

"He said an apple cinnamon funnel cake," Chloe piped in. "And I'll have a strawberry funnel cake."

When Clark gave her a questioning look she just shushed him and gave him a wink. What the heck, she thought.

* * *

Matt felt his sleeve gently lift. He quickly glanced down, pulling his arm close to him instinctively. Somehow, his sleeve must have ridden up just enough to partially reveal the screen portion of the device he wore on his arm. Matt quickly pulled the jacket of his sleeve back into place. Matt then looked down at the young blonde boy who was staring back at him and gave him a friendly grin. 

"Is that a TV?" the boy asked innocently. One of the boy's hands was securely in his mother's hand, but his mother appeared to be occupied as she viewed the menu that hung a few feet away.

Matt shook his head. "No," he said gently. Matt lowered himself to one knee. "What's your name?" He asked softly.

"David," the boy responded.

"I'll bet you like to watch lots of television, don't you David?"

David nodded.

Matt gave him another gentle smile. "Well, I have a secret to tell you."

David leaned in closer, understanding the importance of the word 'secret'.

"Make sure you pay special attention to the planes today, because I can promise you, you're going to see something more exciting than anything you'll find on television. In fact, you're going to see something that you'll tell your kids about." As David's eyes grew wider Matt added, "But that's our secret, okay David?"

David nodded slightly at first and then nodded more vigorously as Matt brought one finger to his lips and made a slight shushing sound.

Matt gave David a wink before standing and then disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

"Hey, CK… Chloe…" Clark heard someone yelling from behind him. Both he and Chloe stopped and turned. Pushing himself through a small group of people, Jimmy Olsen made his way towards them, camera in hand. 

"Hey, Jimmy," Clark and Chloe said in almost unison.

"I was wondering if I'd run into you two here," Jimmy said.

"Getting some good shots?" Chloe asked. Jimmy had been assigned by Perry to take a few photos of the event for the Planet.

"A few, but nothing real earth shattering. You guys see anything news worthy?"

Clark shrugged. "About you'd expect for an event destined for the first page of section E."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "No wonder the others were just fine with us being assigned to cover it."

"That's what I figured," Jimmy said. He checked his watch. "Well, there's going to be a huge group of skydivers jumping out of a plane in about 5 minutes and then the Blue Angels are supposed to put on a show in about an hour. After that, I'll probably take off."

Chloe nodded. "I'm not sure how long we'll stay. We're having fun just hanging out though."

"Cool," Jimmy said. "Well, I probably should get closer to the landing zone for better pictures. I'll catch you later, Chloe and CK."

"Bye Jimmy." Clark said as Chloe also waved goodbye.

As Jimmy walked off, Clark asked Chloe, "Did you want to try and get closer to where the skydivers will be landing?"

Chloe scrunched her face like she had to think about it and then responded, "Sure. Sounds like fun."

* * *

Matt watched the approaching C-130 cargo plane with nervous anticipation. It had taken off about twenty minutes previous loaded with over 50 skydivers, had ascended to its current height and then had circled back. He wished there was another way than what he was about to do. Even knowing what he knew, it didn't make things easier. He didn't believe that the ends justified the means, though sometimes one only had one course of action to achieve those ends. That was the predicament he was in, because to do things any other way could be disastrous. 

Soon the plane was overhead and the first group of skydivers came streaming out the back. More and more people in the crowd began to turn their gaze skyward to enjoy the awesome display of aerial acrobatics as the skydivers performed various formations. Even when the first of the skydivers released their parachutes, the maneuvers continued.

The plane circled several times until at last all of the skydivers had exited. The crowd gave off boisterous cheers as the skydivers drifted closer to the ground and finally touched.

Most of the skydivers had landed and were quickly bundling up their parachutes when Matt removed a small cylindrical device that had a red button at one end from his jacket pocket. He hesitated for only a moment as he glanced at the now slowly descending plane. Reassuring himself one more time that everything would be ok, Matt closed his eyes and pressed down. Seconds later, smoke began billowing out of one of the engines of the C130, then the second, and finally a third.

Clark gently tenderly grasped Chloe's hand as they watched the skydivers descend. Occasionally he'd steal a glance over at her. If she noticed, she pretended not to. He knew she was having a hard time dealing with the complications with her name, but he knew they'd get through it together; they always did. Being a reporter at the Daily Planet was still her dream job and in the end it that would be what was important. Give her a few articles under a pen name and she'd be over it and throw herself into making sure everyone, everywhere had heard of that name. She'd be happy and so would he. In fact he already was and honestly couldn't remember when he was happier or more content.

A quick succession of pops reached his ears. They had been faint, too faint for anyone else around him to have heard them and he normally might have forgotten about them because they hadn't sounded like gunshots. However, Chloe's eyes suddenly went wide and several other people in the crowd gasped. A murmur spread quickly through the crowd.

Clark looked back to the plane and saw smoke begin to billow out from the three of the plane's four engines. He pulse quickened. For moments he stood frozen with the rest of the crowd until the plane began to slowly dip and it became obvious that its descent had quickened.

"Mayday, mayday," was the sounds that he faintly heard from the plane's cockpit. "Controls are gone. We're going down!" Given the bases proximity to Metropolis, it was unlikely that even if the pilots escaped, that someone wouldn't get hurt.

Unless I stop it, Clark thought.

Clark glanced over to Chloe who returned his gaze. He said nothing, but realized that he didn't need to. She had come to the same conclusion that he had. She nodded to him, giving him a reassuring look. She knew and understood what he had to do.

Clark quickly turned and headed for a row of tents close by. Though the tents were lined in rows back to back, a space a few feet wide separated the back of each row. He approached the gap at the end of one set of tent rows. A quick glance around told him that even those who could still see him were more occupied with watching the doomed cargo plane. He began to run at top speed.

The glasses came off first and were tucked into a jacket pocket. The jacket was removed at the same time as the button down shirt with its buttons flying in different directions as he ripped it open. Milliseconds later the shirt and jacket were unceremoniously deposited in a trash receptacle at the end of the row, leaving him in just a blue tee shirt and khakis.

For every step he took he thought of another reason why he should stop, why he shouldn't reveal himself. If anyone ever recognized him it could be bad for his friends, and most of all, for Chloe. Every reason he thought of for stopping were completely valid yet he didn't stop; something wouldn't let him. As he reached the end of the rows of tents he jumped into the air.

If the troubled planed had caused a commotion with the crowd, Clark's sudden appearance in the sky above it had sent it into pandemonium. He counted at least two women fainting when he mentally forced himself to ignore it. It would be a problem he'd have to deal with soon enough but not just yet. He shut everything else but the plane.

With incredible speed he approached the C-130, slowing only as came up from underneath it. Its one good engine struggled in a losing battle to provide enough thrust to keep it aloft. The best it and the pilots aboard could manage was a forty-five degree angle downward. It was enough to make Clark's job slightly easier.

He matched the plane's speed and brought himself close enough that he could touch its underbelly. Slowly at first, Clark began to exert pressure on the underside, decreasing its angle of descent.

As the plane leveled out, Clark turned his head to the two engines on one side and inhaled sharply. An incredibly strong burst of air shook the plane as Clark expelled the air from his lungs. Almost immediately, the flames emanating from both engines were doused and almost the entire wing was covered in a sheen of ice. Soon, the last burning engine was dealt with in the same manner.

The C-130 was easily the largest object Clark had ever flown with, or lifted for that matter, yet even it felt light in his powerful arms. His strength had continued to increase the past couple of years, to the point that he was no longer sure what his limits were, if any.

Clark could hear the frantic voices coming from the cockpit. They knew they no longer had any control of the plane and the only thing they had to go on were the seemingly impossible reports coming from the tower. As runway grew closer their training kicked in however and they began jetting fuel and lowered the landing gear. They're preparing for a crash landing, Clark thought with a smile, but they're actually about to get the smoothest landing they've ever experienced.

The runway was soon underneath and Clark slowed to a stop, hovering a few hundred feet in the air. Then he descended until at last, Clark's feet touched the ground slowly. The C-130 naturally sat close to the ground so Clark had to carefully bend to one knee in order to bring the wheels in contact with the tarmac. Once all the wheels touched the ground, Clark breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, that was probably the easy part, he realized, as he slowly turned his head to look at the crowd. All eyes were on him.

Slowly, he moved out from under the plane and then stood up straight. Hundreds lined the fence the separated the tarmac from the grounds where the crowds of people were allowed. They were silent, as if waiting for him to make the first move, except he wasn't sure what he should do.

He looked quickly up and down the row of people and quickly spotted Chloe, who must have shoved her way up to the fence. He could tell by the look on her face she was waiting on him too. They had talked about something like this happening, but it hadn't been serious and now everything was moving so fast. So Clark did the first thing that came to mind; he waved.

Clark's wave shattered the tension as almost immediately a cheer rose up. Then another and within moments most of the crowd was cheering and clapping. Clark couldn't help but smile.

Though they were just as stunned as everyone else, the military personnel quickly moved into action. Clark could hear orders being shouted over radios that he was to be brought in for questioning. The nervous look of the approaching MPs clearly showed that they weren't exactly sure what they'd do if someone who could lift a plane decided not to cooperate.

"They're more nervous than you and they're just doing what they're trained to do," Clark heard a voice from the crowd say. It was Chloe's and clearly whispered but he had no trouble picking it out of the crowd. He already knew what she said was true but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Go," Chloe said, "You did the right thing and you did great, but now you need to go. Find me when you're able to. I'll deal with everything else."

Clark pushed himself into the air and shot straight up into the sky, leaving Chloe, the MPs, and the crowd far below. She knew him well, knowing that he was going to need some time alone after this; time to think. Everything had just changed. Forever.

* * *

"Chloe!" Chloe heard a frantic Jimmy Olson yell. She spotted him pushing his way through the stunned crowd. 

"Did you see that?!?" Jimmy asked. Chloe could only nod as she returned her gaze to the sky. Clark was long gone, the sonic boom he'd caused as he flew away had faded almost a minute before.

Shaking her head in attempt to force herself to focus, Chloe turned her attention back to Jimmy. "Did you get pictures?"

Jimmy grinned, showing all teeth. "I had my telephoto lens on so you're not going to believe the shots I got." He pushed a couple buttons on his camera and then passed it to Chloe. She quickly flipped through several dozen pictures of Clark as Jimmy peered over her shoulder.

Cautiously, she glanced back at Jimmy and said, "I wonder who this guy is."

Jimmy shook his head, "I have no idea, but this has got to be the coolest thing I've ever seen."

A measure of relief passed over Chloe. Jimmy knew Clark quite well and if he didn't recognize him then there was a good chance that no one else would either. It made all the effort Clark put into his nerdy persona for the past couple years worth it.

"I need to call Perry," Chloe said. "Get those pictures uploaded to the Planet, ASAP."

"On it," Jimmy said and then rushed off.

Chloe retrieved her phone from her purse and quickly dialed Perry's number. She began making her way through the crowd to her car. Every reporter present would have the same idea she had and she'd better make every moment count. Luckily she had her laptop in her car and it was equipped with a wireless modem. She'd be able to write the article that she knew was about to make her famous from there.

"This is Perry," came a gruff voice when the other line picked up.

"Perry, its Chloe. I've got your top story for the day," she said gleefully.

"What?" said Perry, sounding a bit surprise at first. Then in a skeptical voice, "Alright let me hear it?"

"Mysterious superman prevents plane crash," Chloe said confidently. "And I'm not joking," she quickly added.

"What in blue blazes are you talking about?" Perry said, sounding impatient.

Spying a nearby television reporter who appeared to be going live at that moment, Chloe said, "Perry, turn on channel 3, right now."

Chloe could hear some grumbling coming from the other end and then there was a few moments of silence as he listened to the television report. Finally she heard a faint "Great Caesar's Ghost" from Perry. She smiled.

"Tell me Olson got pictures," Perry said. It was more of an order than anything else.

"You'll have them very soon. Along with an article on the whole situation," Chloe said.

"Great Caesar's Ghost," Perry repeated. "This is big." Chloe could tell he was in shock because he didn't normally make a habit of stating the obvious.

"Get it to me within an hour." Perry said. "What about Kent?"

Thinking quickly, Chloe said, "He's getting reactions from the crowd. We're going to share the byline." It was only fair, she thought. Even though he wouldn't actually be around to contribute to the article, he was the whole reason for it.

"Alright. One hour," Perry restated.

"Will do, Chief," Chloe said, barely containing her excitement.

"One last thing, Chloe," Perry said suddenly, as Chloe was about to hang up the phone.

"Yes?" she asked.

"There's still the matter of the name. Have you decided?"

Caught off guard, Chloe thought as quickly as she could. One name popped into her head. It had been a half hearted suggestion from Lois when she'd explained the situation earlier. It had seemed silly at the time but given the amount of time she was now left to consider, it seemed to make sense. After all, it was her favorite grandmother's name who had died the year before and given her cousin's engagement, she wasn't going to be using it in its entirety anymore.

"Yes," she said, hesitatingly slightly before continuing. "I'll be filing it under the name of Lois Lane.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

The apartment was dim and silent as Chloe opened the door and stepped inside. "Clark?" she called out. There was no answer. Disappointedly, she gently closed the door and turned on the lights, illuminating the living room of her apartment.

"Clark?" she said again, but still there was no answer. She retrieved her cell phone from her purse before placing the purse on a small end table. She tapped a couple keys, speed dialing Clark's phone at his apartment. Unconsciously, she paced the floor as the phone began ringing.

After six rings Clark's voice mail picked. After Clark's greeting and the eventual beep, Chloe spoke into the phone, "Clark, when you get this, give me a call… Or just come over if you want. I hope you're doing all right."

She hit the disconnect button and snapped the phone shut. She sighed, putting her hand to her forehead, in worry. She knew he was probably someplace second guessing his decision earlier that day. Not in saving the plane, but wondering if he could have found a way to do it without revealing himself. There wasn't any way that she could think of and wanted to be able to say so.

Turning to place her phone on the end table next to her purse she happened to glance out onto the balcony of her apartment. A familiar shadow could be seen leaning on the railing and staring out over the city.

Trying not to hurry too much, she opened the sliding door and stepped out into the cool night. Clark was still wearing the clothes he had on when he had saved the plane though his glasses were nowhere to be seen either. It was a look that she only saw occasionally, during private moments between the two of them. More often than not, Clark stayed in "costume" even if he would let his real personality show through.

"Clark," she said, approaching him.

He glanced back with a distant look on his face. "Sorry… I've just needed some time to think." He said.

She shook her head. "No, I understand. I'm sure you've been paying attention to the news from here?"

Clark nodded, turning his gaze back to the lights of Metropolis. "Among other things," he said. "I can't believe even the international news has been picking it up."

Chloe shrugged, "Well there were enough camcorders running and shutters clicking that even the largest skeptic is having a hard time calling it a hoax. Are you doing OK?"

Clark nodded. "Better than I thought I would be doing."

"Really?" Chloe said skeptically as she put her arm around his waist. He returned the gesture, putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"It's sort of cliché but it really does feel like the weight of my secret has been lightened. I know I still need to be careful but part of me is glad that it's no longer necessary to hide that side of me."

"Well, I'm glad you're handling it so well. And your disguise has definitely helped. If anyone from the Planet would have recognized you both our phones would be ringing non-stop."

"True, but I wonder if it's going to be enough, in the long run that is. Everyone is wondering who the "mystery" person who saved the plane is. Those pictures are going to be examined from every imaginable angle. It may be only a matter of time till someone does make the connection, unless we do something."

"What did you have in mind?" Chloe asked curiously.

"You're going to have to trust me on this," Clark said with a determined look that contained just a slight twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

* * *

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open, revealing an empty elevator. Chloe yawned, making a note to grab another cup of coffee soon, as she and Clark stepped onto the elevator. On reflex, both turned to face the closing doors as Clark hit the button that would take them to the main Daily Planet newsroom floor. The elevator began its long ascent up to the 60th floor of the Daily Planet Building.

"I can't believe Perry wanted us here on at 7am on a Sunday," Clark said. "I think everyone is over-reacting."

"You know that's not true. You're big news" Chloe said looking at him from the corner of her eye.

Clark nodded and sighed. "I just hope Perry doesn't take one look at the pictures and then at me and figure it all out."

"I think you'll be ok. You'd probably fool me if I didn't know you so well," she said. "I do like your new glasses, though," she snarked, just managing to keep from giggling.

Clark examined himself in the reflection of the door. "I do look ridiculous," he said with a half smile, managing to sound surprisingly upbeat about it.

"No you don't," Chloe said. "You're still handsome. You just look very…"

"Careful," Clark said, smiling.

"I was going to say, 'very un-Superman like'. That is the point after all."

At the sound of the word Superman, Clark's face crinkled. "What?" Chloe asked.

"Just not a big fan of the nickname you gave me. Superman. Every newspaper is using it. It's embarrassing."

"Would you have preferred the 'Metropolis Marvel'?" Chloe asked, referring to the name run by the Inquisitor. Almost no other papers that had carried the story about Clark's save at the air show had decided to go that name. Most had used the name she had coined.

Clark shook his head in response to here question. "Besides," she said, "I think that if anything, it's an understatement."

Clark chuckled. "I think you're hoping for that exclusive interview Perry's going to be wanting."

Chloe gave him an innocent look, complete with batting eyelashes.

Clark smiled. "Well, I was thinking that I did owe a certain someone for jump starting my career and adding my name to yesterday's byline." Clark suddenly grew serious and asked, "You wouldn't know how I would get a hold of Lois would you? So I can thank her?"

Chloe smacked his arm. "Arghh! Don't remind me. I've been regretting it ever since I said it. It was the only thing I could think of. I wish I could take it back."

"It's a little too late for that now. I doubt that there will be a major newspaper in the world who doesn't know the name Lois Lane by now. So you have a choice, take the name that's on its way to being famous or stick with your real name and go back to being confused with you know who at the Inquisitor."

Chloe sighed. "You're right. I know that, but it doesn't make it easier."

"You think being branded with the name "Superman" is going to be easy for me?" Clark said with a friendly mockery.

Chloe sighed, "Point taken, but just don't start calling me Lois. I'm not changing my name or anything like that. It's just a professional decision, that's all."

"Fair enough," Clark said.

Moments later the elevator dinged as it arrived at its destination. Clark motioned for Chloe to go first and then followed a step behind her. After a few steps he moved around her and pulled one of the doors that separated the elevators from the news room open for her. She smiled at him in thanks.

Together they proceeded to the large conference room at the far end of the floor. Perry White and few others were already there but it was obvious that they were still amongst the first to arrive.

Perry turned from the conversation that he had been having as they approached and moved towards them.

"Sullivan. Kent. Great work yesterday. Great work," he said as he gave a congratulatory handshake to Chloe. He turned to do the same to Clark and froze suddenly.

"Uh," he stammered, briefly, before continuing to extend his hand. "New glasses, Kent?"

"Uh, yeah, Chief, I've been putting off getting a new prescription for too long," Clark responded as he shook Perry's hand and adjusted his new glasses with his left. He managed to look completely awkward while doing so, Chloe silently observed.

"You ever think about contacts, Kent?" Perry said bluntly.

"They irritate my eyes, Chief." Clark said.

Perry nodded his head, seemingly sympathetically. "Well, take a seat you too. We're starting soon and whoever isn't here in the next five minutes had better come in with a damn good excuse."

Clark and Chloe both nodded and quickly moved to take seats at the conference room table. Clark caught Chloe's eye and gave her a triumphant wink.

Chloe smiled in return. The new glasses that Clark had spent half the night looking for in various thrift stores and flea markets around the world didn't make him look too bug-eyed she thought. However, as she noticed a few failed attempts at concealed amusement from several others in the room upon talking to Clark she wondered if she was just looking at him through the eyes of a girlfriend. Perhaps so, but new and improved glasses were clearly doing what they were intended to do: make Clark look even more geeky and less like Superman. After all, who would ever believe a man who could fly would wear Coke bottle glasses. And that was clearly the point.

Clark and Chloe chatted softly until the room eventually to near capacity.

Perry finally called out, "Alright everybody, listen up." The room went silent nearly instantly. With purpose he held aloft the previous day's front page with the headline of "Mysterious Superman Prevents Plane Crash" and one of Jimmy's pictures of the scene. "I want to know it all, everything," he began.

* * *

_One week later_

Clark looked in the full length mirror that stood in Chloe's bedroom. He wasn't sure if he should feel embarrassed or what. He was clothed in a blue body suit that he and Chloe had sewn over the past couple of days. Red boots, red cape, red briefs and a yellow belt broke up the blue. It had looked silly on paper and even sillier when they had been sewing it, but it had been the least silly of their different sketches. Several times Clark had wanted to scrap the whole project but Chloe hadn't let him back out.

When they had first finished with the suit it hadn't looked complete. It was Chloe's idea to add a symbol. Once again, they had gone through several different ideas but none had seemed correct.

It was when he and Chloe had been discussing whether to tell the world that he was from another planet that he come up with the idea of using the symbol that he now wore boldly on his chest.

From his visits to his Fortress of Solitude he had learned that the different Kryptonian houses had each always had a symbol. His father, Jor-El, had once marked him with the symbol of the house of El had had been around for thousands of years, but Clark had later learned there was a more modern version that had occasionally been used before Krypton's destruction. Chloe claimed to have gotten goose bumps when he first sketched it for her.

Now as Clark stood in the suit that he and Chloe had created, he wondered if he was making a mistake; perhaps taking on too much. Though he only sought to help where he could he knew he was about to set himself up as a superhero. Expectations of him would soon be set and he had no doubt that they would be high. While he wore the suit he would never be able show any doubt or any insecurities. No weaknesses. People would look to him for answers he couldn't give; to solve problems he couldn't solve. There was an inevitable element to it.

He kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting Chloe to worry about him anymore than she already was. If she was aware of the implications she kept them to herself; most likely so as not to worry him.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Clark," Chloe said from the other side, "Are you ready?"

Glancing one last time into the mirror he then took several steps over to the door and opened it.

"Whoa!" was the shush reaction that Chloe gave to seeing him in the suit for the first time.

"What do you think?" Clark asked.

Chloe slowly took it in and then looked into his eyes. "You look… amazing."

"You don't think the blues and reds are too much?"

"Not anymore," Chloe responded.

When they first discussed suit options, Chloe had leaned towards a black suit. There were several reasons, but for one, it was much easier to make a 'cool' looking suit if they used black. After a lot of thought, Clark had vetoed the idea of black. A black suit carried an undertone that the person was hiding something or an undertone of violence. He even made the point that if they looked at the different comic characters that were around, those that wore black were always amongst the most violent, even the heroes. He didn't want to project that. The image he had wanted to portray was that of one that was there to help and that he had nothing to hide. Bold colors like blue and red did that much better than black ever could.

"Are you ready for this?" Chloe asked after a few more moments of admiring him in the suit.

Clark smiled and shook his head at the same time, prompting a smile from Chloe.

"You'll do fine," she said and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

Clark nodded, "Only because I have you. I'm not sure I'd be able to do this without you."

Chloe blushed slightly but then responded, "Yes you could. This maybe one of the biggest steps you've ever taken but you were doing this sort of thing long before you ever met me. You hate the word destiny, but if this isn't yours, then I don't know what is."

Clark nodded and embraced her gently. After a moment, he whispered, "I'd better get started."

Chloe gave him another kiss, this time on the cheek and said, "I love you."

"I love you too," Clark responded as he slid from her embrace.

With a deep breath he walked towards the balcony of her apartment. He slid the door open and then looked back once more at Chloe. She gave him a gentle nod before he turned and leapt out into the night sky.

* * *

Chloe stood on the balcony, enjoying the night air. Clark had streaked away just moments before, off to who knows where. She couldn't help but feel proud of him.

Chloe wondered if Clark fully understood how popular Superman was about to become. People would never tire of hearing about him, never be able to get enough of him. His every action was going to end up creating headlines, his every opinion that he voiced would influence those around him. She had kept such thoughts to herself, not wanting to make him anymore nervous than he was, though he did hide it well.

She yawned, the whirlwind of the past week had nearly taken its toll on her. They had spent nearly every free moment working on that suit. Its every detail and been pored over and thought and then re-thought. Clark had been right about the bright colors, they did inspire a feeling of confidence and not fear like black would have.

Chloe and Clark had flown to Smallville to talk to Judge Ross the day after the incident at the air show. Potentially anything they did could come back to here, if anyone ever figured out Clark was Superman. She had supported them though. Had said she had never been more proud of anyone not of her family than when she had seen the news reports about Clark saving the plane. Pete had been supportive as well when they talked to him.

Chloe stepped back inside. She wanted to go to bed but there was still a lot of work she needed to do. She had an interview to finish writing up so that she could submit it to Perry in the morning. It would probably cause a larger stir than Clark's unveiling the week before.

Clark had decided to hold as little back as possible. The article that she would submit the next day would announce his extraterrestrial origins. They both figured it was better announce it right away than to have it come out later. Still they had no idea how people would accept that new revelation.

* * *

"Damn it, Hank," Bill snapped in a hushed tone. "Can you get it or not?"

"I'm trying," Hank snapped back as he pushed and pulled with a crowbar that was jammed in between the door and frame in front of them.

Bill scoped the alley they stood in once more. No one else was around but when it came to casing a joint, a pawnshop this time, anything could go wrong. And Hank wasn't helping.

"Damn it, Hank, hurry up."

"If you can do better, go ahead," Hank said as he removed the crowbar and thrust it into Bill's hands.

Growling, Bill grabbed the crowbar in two hands and positioned himself to jam it back in between the door and the doorframe, in hopes of prying it open.

"Gentlemen."

Bill froze suddenly at the sound of the voice behind them.

Bill slowly turned and looked to see who was behind them, gripping the crowbar at the same time. He was ready for a fight, if necessary. His eyes went left and then right. There was no one. Then, very slowly, he began to look up.

Floating ten feet above the ground was a man in a blue and red suit with a red cape flapping in the breeze. His piercing eyes could barely be seen in the dim light, but they still managed to grab his attention and hold it.

"Did we forget our keys?" the man asked with one eyebrow arched.

The crowbar slid from Bill's hand and landed with a loud series of pangs on the concrete below. It was all that Bill could do to keep from wetting himself.

* * *

_Next Day_

Randy was unsure if he'd been so scared in his life. The morphine the paramedics had injected into him had numbed the excruciating pain he had been in just minutes before but had done little for the fear.

Just thirty minutes before he had been hard at work, a part of a construction team contracted to help build a new highway overpass. He had been helping to direct a bulldozer as it plowed tons of soft dirt onto an even larger and ever increasing mound of dirt that would be part of the overpass. He hadn't been paying close enough attention and had been standing to close. The dirt had shifted and the bulldozer had slid down the mound and tumbled onto its side, trapping Randy's legs when it landed.

He had passed out instantly, only to wake a short time later, barely able to think straight with all the pain. There were about a half dozen paramedics, milling around him. One gently secured him in a neck brace. Two more had gently lifted his head and torso and another had carefully slid a back board underneath. Randy was unsure what was going beyond his immediate vicinity, but he imagined his fellow construction workers were watching nearby.

Suddenly one of the paramedics was hovering over him, clearly anxious himself. "I'm sorry Randy," the paramedic said. "We need to get you to the hospital before you bleed to death and there's only one way to get you free. We're going to have to take your legs."

Randy began weeping, but he managed to nod his head. His thoughts turned to his young wife and daughter. How could he have been so careless?

"We're giving you another shot of morphine, Randy," the paramedic said. "And I want you to bite on this," he said as he produced a short wooden cylinder and placed it in Randy's mouth.

Randy bit down and closed his eyes. A few seconds later he heard the sound of a saw and he did everything in his power to think about something other than what was about to happen.

"Wait," a loud voice suddenly said the saw suddenly shut off.

Randy opened his eyes and saw that the paramedics were looking up into the air, the mouths agape.

Randy's eyes slowly moved upward until he saw what had the paramedics so shocked. It was a man, in bold red and blue colors, floating in mid air.

"I can help, if you'll let me," the man said. Randy noted the concern on the man's face. He looked back the paramedics, who were still speechless.

Randy looked back at the man and finally recognized him. He was the one that had saved the plane from crashing the week before. Who else could be? Who else could fly? What had they called him? Superman, that was it.

The man landed softly, just a few feet away. The paramedics slowly stood, clearly unsure of what to do.

"I'll lift the bulldozer while you pull this man out from under. Is that OK?" the man asked.

The paramedics glanced at each other and then nodded. Randy then watched as the man that people were calling Superman bent down and positioned his hands underneath the bulldozer. Could he really do it? Randy asked himself.

As if he could read Randy's mind, the man called Superman turned gave him a reassuring look. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll have you out of here in just a moment."

Without showing any signs of strain, Superman began lifting. The bulldozer groaned at first and then began to slowly move. Within moments Randy felt himself being dragged clear and then hoisted onto a nearby stretcher.

As he was being whisked away to an ambulance parked nearby, Randy saw Superman rise into the air above. Randy did his best to say thank you, but his voice barely croaked. Superman seemed to understand because Randy saw him nod and wave before disappearing in a streak of red and blue.

* * *

_Three days later_

"I take it Star Labs confirmed that the sample this 'Superman' submitted yesterday is authentic?" President Steele asked, speaking to the man sitting across from him in the Oval Office.

"Yes, Mr. President, that's correct," responded General Sam Lane as he flipped open the brown folder that held his report. He had the first copy and it had not yet been released to the public. "All evidence indicates that this 'Superman' is not of this world.

President Steele let out a long drawn breath. When Sam Lane's niece had gone to print three days ago announcing that this 'Superman' that was suddenly playing hero across the globe was an alien the entire world took notice. It had been bad enough when he had saved the plane the week before but now it was causing panic in some places. There were people demonstrating against him, fearful of what his arrival may bring and those that were demonstrating for him. However, enough doubt of the authenticity of his origin's existed that Star Labs had publically offered to test a sample to confirm the claim. Superman had promptly shown up at the Star Labs in Metropolis and presented a hair sample, plucked from his own head on the spot.

"Do you think the sample will be able to tell us how to stop him, if we need to?" President Steele asked. This meeting President Steele was having with General Lane was the third of its kind since that day at the air show. Quite frankly, the powers exhibited by this man scared the governments of the world and they scared him personally. He had already had to console several dozen world leaders and assure them this was not some American super weapon. And while General Lane's niece had outlined his abilities in her article, it had given no indication of weaknesses or how strong or fast he really was.

"We're not sure and it could take weeks to find out."

"And your niece? What did you find out from her?"

"She believes he's on the up and up; that really is here to help. It's also my opinion that she was somewhat protective of him so I was careful how I asked my questions."

"What do you think, Sam? My advisors are saying that if the tests are positive then I should invite him to the White House. The Secret Service are against it because they're afraid they wouldn't be able to protect me if he came with ill intentions." President Steele asked. Sam had been a friend since they served in Vietnam together. There was no one outside of his own family that he trusted more.

"Honestly, Mr. President, given what he has demonstrated so far, if he meant you harm he could deliver it whenever he wished. It's my opinion that so far he has given every indication of being exactly what he says, a friend. However, I won't presume to recommend how you deal with him."

"Fair enough, Sam. Give Star Labs the go ahead to release the test results to the public."

"Yes, sir. And my I will make one recommendation though, Mr. President?" General Lane asked. When President Steele nodded, he continued, "We may be able to use him in dealing with our other situation."

President Steele nodded. "Do you have any updates on that for me?"

General Lane nodded, "Once again, I fear I bring nothing but bad news on that matter…"

* * *

Isis entered the darkened room silently. There was virtually no light available but Isis could make out every detail. The only sound was from the figured that slept in the bed at the far end of the relatively small room. The bed was the only furniture present.

"Awake," Isis said, in neither command nor request.

The figured snarled, clearly irritated at his disturbance. "What is it?" asked the figure in a harsh voice.

Most that knew him would quake with fear in his mere presence but not Isis. She feared nothing. "I believe I may have found one that could aid us in accomplishing our goal," she said.

There was silence for a moment as the statement was allowed to sink in.

"Are you sure?" asked the harsh voice.

"Am I ever wrong?" Isis responded with a question of her own, though they both knew the answer.

The figure laughed a harsh laugh before responding, "Tell me."


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

President Steele shook his head and asked, "Tell me Sam, in the four years since I gave you this assignment, have we had any good news?" The question was meant to be taken rhetorically.

"I'm grateful we know as much as we do now, Mr. President. That's good news in and of itself." General Lane responded solemnly.

"Well, what is it now?"

"Two days ago we lost contact with two of the FBI agents assigned to one of our surveillance operations in Metropolis. This morning their bodies were found in a garbage bin. It wasn't pretty, I'm told."

President Steele swore. "That makes almost a dozen in the last six months."

"Eleven to be exact and Director Carrington is pissed. He's demanding to know what I have them doing or he'll to pull the remainder of the agents he loaned me."

"I'll talk to him after our meeting. Is the media being taken care of?"

"They've agreed to hold the story until the family has been notified. I have a couple people fabricating a story for their current activities," General Lane said grimly.

President Steele nodded. "Who were they assigned to?"

"Gordon Webber," General Lane responded, "He's currently heads up the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit. This is the second pair that we've lost watching him."

"What do we have on him?"

General Lane picked up a folder from the table that between himself and the President. He quickly flipped through a couple of sheets of paper until he found what he was looking for. "It reads like some of the others that we have Mr. President. Single guy and workaholic. We have taps on his phones but haven't gotten anything yet. The agents had previously spotted him making calls using pre-paid cell phones, to whom we don't know. He'll disappear for several hours at a time a couple times a week, managing to shake the agents tailing him each time."

"So we may be able to assume that the agents got too close the other night?" the President asked, interrupting General Lane.

"It's possible, Sir, but we obviously have no way of knowing."

"How's the Special Crimes Unit doing underneath him?"

"From the reports I've got here, it's in shambles. Morale is down, the department is understaffed, underequipped and grossly over budget. Of course there's no evidence of anything deliberate. Almost everything could be explained away be mere chance or incompetence. He's had several vocal critics calling for his job but most quiet down pretty quickly. We have evidence of bribes or extortion in several cases."

"Just like the others…" the President stated.

"Just like the others," General Lane confirmed.

"No clue where the money from the bribes is coming from?"

"No," General Lane said, shaking his head. "All were routed through different banks in Switzerland or the Caymans. All used numbered accounts so we don't have the identities of the sources."

"What tipped us off to him?"

"His name first popped up as a possible in the data mining operations the NSA is running for us. His name was later found on a partially recovered file we got off the computer of the Chief of Police down in Orlando, shortly after he disappeared late last year. We put surveillance on him shortly after."

"How many others do we currently have under surveillance?"

"Six. Down from ten at the first of the year. Those four were amongst those to go missing this year."

The President stood. Slowly he walked over to the window and gazed out. "What are we going to do, Sam? On one hand we have a loosely associated group of people that collectively could be undermining this country's ability to handle disasters. On the other hand, those same people are systematically disappearing under very bizarre conditions, causing a near panic amongst the citizen's of this nation. It frightens me that with all our resources that we know absolutely nothing about who is behind the disappearances."

"It scares me too, Mr. President."

"I think we need to take more extreme measures to gain answers to some of our questions, Sam."

"What do you want to do, Mr. President?" General Lane asked.

"Bring Webber in for questioning, but do it quietly. I don't want anyone to know we have him. Make it look like he just disappeared like the others. I want us to be able to take our time questioning him."

"Mr. President, what you're suggesting…"

"I know what I'm suggesting. Just do it."

"Yes, Mr. President. I'll get someone assigned right away. I have a couple of names that come to mind-"

"I want a third party to do it. Use Wilson," the President said, interrupting him.

"Mr. President, surely we can get someone else."

President Steele shook his head. "I don't want any mistakes and we both know Wilson is the best, despite our feelings about him. He's quiet, he's deniable and he never fails."

General Lane nodded grimly. "I'll make the call."

* * *

Bruce Wayne ignored the sweat dripping from his forehead as he pounded the punching bag in front of him relentlessly. For the moment, it was the enemy. As intent on his workout as he was, Alfred Pennyworth's, his butler, entrance into the room did not go unnoticed.

Alfred carried a silver tray in front of him with several items on it. "Perhaps it might be time for a break, sir," he said as he grew closer.

Bruce glanced over at the clock hanging on the far wall.

"You've been exercising for approximately six hours, sir."

Bruce nodded reluctantly. He grabbed a white hand towel from the tray Alfred carried and wiped his face and neck free of sweat before placing over one shoulder. He grabbed the remaining items, a glass of ice water and a newspaper, and sat on a bench nearby.

As he sipped on the ice water he glanced at the newspaper.

"I really have been gone for a long time," he muttered at site of the blue and red dressed figure splashed across the front page.

"It appears that you aren't the only attempting to set a new fashion trend." Alfred mused in reference to their own work on creating a suit for Bruce.

Smirking slightly Bruce flipped the paper over to see the rest bottom half of the front page. The one article not apparently related to Superman caught his eye.

"These disappearances have been happening for over two years and no one has any leads?" Bruce asked.

"That's correct, Master Wayne." Alfred answered. "People are in a panic. Everyone is demanding answers and no one has any."

"I'll have to look into it after we've dealt with Falcone," Bruce said. Above all else, Gotham, his home, came first.

* * *

General Sam Lane waited impatiently as various suitcases and duffle bags slid along the conveyor belt of the baggage terminal of the Metropolis International Airport. He hadn't waited long but he felt on edge as though being in one place too long was dangerous. Part of him felt like he was being watched though he was sure it was just his imagination. He was used to getting attention when he was in uniform but he had made sure to travel in civilian clothes this time. His problem was that he had been on edge ever since he received his latest instructions from the President. Slade Wilson was dangerous, perhaps too dangerous to trust with something so sensitive, but General Lane couldn't disagree that he was effective.

General Lane was a captain in Army Intelligence during the Vietnam when he first met Slade who was a member of the Special Forces. Even then Slade had a reputation for being very effective during missions.

Near the end of the Vietnam War the government got it in their head that they needed to build a super soldier. A Captain America of sorts, right out of the pages of a comic book or something like that. That was their hope anyway. So they began to experiment with various methods to increase the human bodies' potential. Most failed, but one progressed beyond all hopes. When tested in the lab it worked great on rats and a few dogs, at first. The test subjects all got real strong and real fast, but all died within weeks; their bodies burned out. The drug company contracted to design the serum was convinced that because the serum had been designed for humans that it wasn't compatible with the test subjects. They managed to convince a few corrupt upper brass to green light a human test subject.

Slade Wilson was chosen from a pool of potential candidates and was approached about the test. Extremely intelligent, in top shape, and an exquisite soldier, he was probably the perfect candidate. He agreed readily.

The drug company was right. Slade responded to the serum better than anyone could have hoped. His strength and speed increased tremendously. His body's ability to heal improved dramatically as well.

What they hadn't counted on was just how the serum would affect Slade's mind. Already a brilliant soldier, the serum enhanced that, making him utterly deadly. General Lane firmly believed that there was not a more brilliant tactician and strategist alive than Slade Wilson. Along with it came a thirst for action and a growing rebellious attitude. He began disobeying orders and reprioritizing mission objectives. Then he began striking out on his own, creating his own missions. It scared the heck out of people so much that they made a deadly mistake; they tried to terminate the project, Wilson included.

When it was all done, almost all of the higher ups running the project were dead and so were a lot of the good soldiers who had been sent after Wilson. Slade struck out on his own, making a living as a mercenary. He went by the name Deathstroke, though many people simply referred to him as the Terminator. That had been thirty years ago and from all accounts there was no sign of Slade slowing down.

Finally General Lane's bag came into sight and he quickly grabbed it. He second guessed himself once more for deciding to stay a couple of days to visit his daughter. Not staying would have meant he could have traveled lighter, but with his daughter's recent engagement he felt there wasn't any way he couldn't stay and spend some time with her. He also wanted to speak with his niece in person and get more in depth info on the mysterious Superman. Since her interview with him, she was pretty much the world's leading expert on him.

With a brisk pace he made his way out the main doors and then towards the waiting taxis. As he held up his hand for the next taxi in line, signaling his wish for transportation, another taxi shot forward and cut the first one off. General Lane chuckled silently to himself as the now cut off taxi driver began honking his horn in protest of the stolen fare. General Lane didn't care, so long as he got to where he was going and he always did admire a go-getter.

He opened the back door put his bag in first, gently pushing it to the far end of the back seat. As he slid himself in to the taxi, he told the driver the address he wished to go and then began to pull the door shut behind him. However, just before it closed, a strong hand grabbed a hold of it and pulled it wide open once more.

"This one's taken," General Lane snarled. "Get the next-." He stopped suddenly as the face of the man holding the door came into view. It had been at least twenty years since General Lane had personally seen this man. He was older, his hair grayed with time. He was also sporting a goatee and an eye patch, but once you met Slade Wilson, you never forgot him. "Slade," he hissed.

"I hope you don't mind me bumping our meeting up a few hours Sam, but I figured there was no point in waiting," Slade said.

Silently and knowing he had little choice, General Lane slid over to make room for Wilson. He glanced up at the driver, taking a closer look at the older man behind the wheel. "Hello Wintergreen," he said as Wilson slid in next to him and closed the door.

The driver glanced back and gave him a smile. "Good afternoon, sir" Wintergreen said, speaking in a British accent. Moments later Wintergreen pulled the taxi away from the curb and they began to make their way away from the airport.

Wintergreen was Wilson's best friend and confidant and mentor of sorts. They'd been best friends since Vietnam when they had performed joint special forces operations together. Wintergreen, a member of the British SAS at the time, had taken a liking to Slade, who was had been a member of Delta Force. According to the reports General Lane had read, Wintergreen had defied orders and led a small team to rescue Slade, who had been sent on a suicide mission by a corrupt colonel. A couple years later, Wintergreen had fallen into the hands of the Vietcong and it was Wilson this time who had led the rescue attempt. They'd kept close ever since.

"It's been a long time, Sam." Slade said.

"Not long enough, Slade," General Lane said before he could stop himself.

Slade chuckled and then responded. "You're taking a big risk, meeting with me. Why?"

"No time wasted, eh?" General Lane asked.

Slade shrugged.

"Very well, there's someone I need to have brought in for questioning," General Lane replied. "It needs to be done off the radar of any official law enforcement and I have a feeling that the target is going to resist. We've already lost four FBI agents tailing him."

Slade chuckled. "A bit heavy handed, Sam, to be bringing me in to do a job like that. You have people that are more than capable."

"I'll be honest, Slade," General Lane growled. "I don't want you here. However, I have my orders and so here we are."

"Very well, your money is as good as the next guys. Give me the details."

General Lane reached into his pocket and pulled piece of paper and a pen. On the paper he jotted down an internet address. He handed it over to Slade and said. "That address will go live at 6pm. You'll have ten minutes to retrieve the files before it goes offline again. Use the username Wilson and the password is the code name of your first mission in Vietnam. Do you remember?"

"Of course," Slade responded as he pocketed the slip of paper. In return he pulled a plain business card out of his pocket and handed it to General Lane. "There's an account number and routing information for a bank in the Caymans. Make sure the first half is there by six. Second half is due within one hour of delivery."

As General Lane had heard, there wasn't a discussion about the exact dollar amount to be paid. Slade either liked the mission or he didn't, money wasn't really a factor. He'd heard instances of Slade being low-balled though and it never turned out good for the client.

General Lane pocketed the card. "How's Addie doing these days?" he asked, genuinely.

Addie, short for Adeline Kane Wilson, was Slade's ex-wife. She was tough as nails and made a living as a trainer of military and police forces around the world. She was also the reason Slade was forced to wear an eye patch. General Lane had seen her several times since she divorced Slade but it had been several years since seeing her last. Addie was someone General Lane admired, a strong women that made handled herself fine in environments that were almost purely male.

"She's in Morocco at the moment, another training job," Slade said distantly. It didn't take much skill in observation to tell that Wilson still loved her, in spite of their horrendously rocky past. He never blamed her for her attempt to kill him. General Lane didn't know all the details but he knew it had something to do with the death of their eldest son.

"Damn fine woman, that Addie," General Lane said. Slade nodded silently.

They chatted superficially for about ten minutes before the taxi pulled to a stop. Wintergreen looked back and said, "This is your stop, sir."

General Lane noted that it was in fact his daughter's apartment building. He nodded to Wintergreen and Slade and stepped out of the cab with his bag. He'd see that the money was transferred right away and then he was intent on playing the waiting game while visiting his daughter and niece.

* * *

Queen Hippolyta of Themyscira entered the atrium of her palace with a steady pace. At its center was a large fire pit with a fire blazing. The heat it radiated could be felt to some degree by anyone in atrium. Seated before the fire with her legs crossed and in a meditative pose was Hippolyta's daughter Diana.

Hippolyta glanced at the object which she held in her hands. It was a silk pillow upon which sat two items covered with a silk cloth. They were gifts for her daughter.

Arriving a few feet from Diana, she stood quietly waiting for her daughter to acknowledge her presence, not wanting to break her meditative state.

Within seconds Diana opened her eyes and glanced up at her mother. "Do you have news, mother?"

Hippolyta nodded. "The seers have finished communing. The appearance of the man known as Superman was the final sign they were waiting for. Dark times are ahead which threaten not only the safety of Themyscira but of the whole world. It is time for one of us to take her place as representative of Themyscira amongst the world of Man and aid in its protection. As Queen, I have chosen you, my daughter."

Diana nodded and then quickly stood in one swift motion. She glanced curiously at the covered pillow that Hippolyta carried.

Hippolyta pulled the silken cloth aside revealing two of Themyscira's greatest treasures. The Lasso of Truth and the Bracers of Aegis. "These will aid you in your duties, daughter."

Diana nodded. "I will not disappoint you, Mother," she said with conviction.

Hippolyta leaned forward and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I know you will not."


End file.
